


Project Legend: Part 2

by ResiGamerGirl



Series: Power of Sin Series [4]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood and Gore, Death, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Gen, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Multi, POV Canon Character, POV Original Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Saving the World, Series, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:34:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 77,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24526960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ResiGamerGirl/pseuds/ResiGamerGirl
Summary: The story continues directly after the shocking discovery on the freighter. Simple things become a lot more complicated. The mastermind behind it all is revealed. If the project succeeds, the fate of everything will change forever. Legend has the capacity to save the world or destroy it.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Canon Characters, Chris Redfield/Original Character(s), Chris Redfield/Original Female Character(s), Leon S. Kennedy/Claire Redfield, Rebecca Chambers/Billy Coen, Sherry Birkin & Jake Muller
Series: Power of Sin Series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1285709
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	1. The Night Goes On

_Pacific Ocean, off the Port of Redwood, Redwood, California_

Was she hearing things or were those helicopters in the distance?

“Chris!” Claire screamed through the light rain and sounds of combat between Chris and the two superhumans.

He wasn't exactly being conversational. It was a hell of a mind fuck to believe her brother was dead one day, and then suddenly have the belief turned on its head. There wasn't a whole lot of opportunity to react to such a revelation either, not when he was busy trying to kill them. Okay, technically he appeared to be focusing on Wesker and Krauser. Possibly because they were the bigger threat?

She sought out Leon racing forward to try and engage Chris in close combat. No. Risky. This whole thing was too dangerous but lethal weaponry wasn't an option. They couldn't kill him!

“Chris! Please!” she screamed desperately. “Stop!”

Leon dispensed a couple punches and kicks but every move was easily parried by his opponent. A solid hit caught him in the jaw and he spun away, giving the opponent plenty of time to kick him in the back. The second blow pushed him a couple feet and left him struggling to regain balance.

Her fiance fighting her dead brother. Not dead brother. Shit. He was alive. All this time believing he was dead and he'd been alive the whole time. And now he was trying to kill them. Why was he trying to kill them?

She scanned her brother as he stood his ground at the center of the ship's rear deck, waiting. He was dressed for combat, military gear entirely in black color. Chris carried many weapons on his person. There were handguns holstered to dual thigh holsters, multiple knives sheathed to his bulletproof vest, grenades on his belt along with pouches likely containing spare ammunition, and the thin sword on his back. Claire thought it might have been a katana.

Chris was the terrorist. Seen from far away on that camera on TV, she'd thought it could be him. She wanted her brother to be alive, more than she wanted to think about what that would mean. But now she understood the horror Eva mentioned. Something happened to make him aggressive and unresponsive to the people who knew him.

Images flooded her mind over what might have happened to him in the six years she left him for dead. How could she do that? How could she give up on him? Guilt impeded her ability to call to her brother again. Instead, her eyes searched for the only other person who loved Chris as much as she did.

Eva was climbing a ladder to a slightly raised platform. Claire's eyes followed her, wondering why she would go there. What was she thinking?

“Chris Redfield! Chris! Stop fighting! Stop it now!” Eva shouted down.

Her pleas fell on deaf ears just as Claire's had, until her next words finally went heard.

“I order you to stop, soldier!”

It was an interesting tactic, albeit, totally out of left field. She was shocked it caught his attention when nothing else did. Her brother, seemingly such a stranger to them now, turned in Eva's direction to look up at her.

“Do not fight me,” he uttered.

The words came out simple, plain, and yet the warning was clear. What was unclear, was whether or not Eva picked up on the warning or was choosing to ignore it.

“Then stop fighting us. We don't want to hurt you.”

His head tilted slightly to the side as he studied her form on the higher landing. He repeated his previous words like it was an automatic response. It came out the same way, monotone.

“Do not fight me.”

“Why not?” Krauser asked him, daring to step closer as a challenge. “You're trying to kill us.”

“Do not fight me,” he repeated a third time, and notably, he was talking up toward Eva, before looking over to Leon. “Everyone who fights me dies.”

Wesker eyed him critically, also moving nearer. Leon was keeping his distance. Smart. The two superhuman beings could take her crazed brother down carefully, right? Chris was on drugs or brainwashed. He couldn't help himself and so they would have to knock him out and take him with them, to help him. She'd failed to save him six years ago, but she could save him now.

“You and I have fought many times, Chris. You will never truly defeat me.”

There was no hint of recognition or interest as he shifted to regard Wesker, and in turn, shifted to better face where she was standing. Now she had a clear view and could see he didn't have an actual expression on his face. Possibly a little impatience, and even some anger, but he wasn't looking at Wesker like he should be, like he knew him.

“You cannot win. I cannot die,” Chris informed the superhuman, adding, “I know what you are. Your life is forfeit.”

Helicopters. Those were helicopters in the distance. Claire peered into the sky, seeking them out. There was something drawing toward the ship over the water, but it was so dark out there, and the rain... It was impossible to make out the shapes. She could still hear propeller blades. Had to be helicopters.

Chris heard them, too. His gaze drew away from Wesker, skyward. Definite anger came into his eyes then. She'd seen her brother angry many times before, and this time was no different.

“They're coming,” he detested.

“Who? Chris, leave with us. Please! Come on, Chris,” Eva called down to him, begging.

He stared at her once again, not for long. A brief glance and he was turning his back to her. Chris returned to ignore mode, and drew his gun. They didn't know his target but Wesker was quick, throwing and twisting his body through the air to avoid the fired bullets.

When the gun clicked empty, she ran forward. She wasn't thinking of anything but her brother standing there right in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Leon and Krauser press toward them at her sudden action. Probably to stop her. One of them might have yelled something, but all she could hear was her own thudding heartbeat as she ran.

“Chris! What's wrong with you? Don't you recognize me? Chris!”

She latched onto his arm, stupidly, desperately. He shook her off like her grip was nothing more than an infant's attempt at holding on. Then he punched her in the face. She fell on her rear and almost blacked out. Christ, he was strong.

Blood dripped from her nose and she stared up at him.

“I don't know you.”

Spoken so emotionless, so affecting to her heart. He was already turning away. She couldn't lose him!

Her arms shot forth and locked around his legs. Stupid. Claire looked hopefully upward, like there could be any kind of positive reaction for such a childish and foolish attempt to keep him with her.

Yelling from people telling her to get away. She could hear Eva screaming for Chris to remember himself. But for her there was solely the persistent beating of her vitalized heartbeat and the rest fell away. Somehow, she was still surprised when he turned back and pulled a leg free to stomp a heavy boot down into her face.

Bullets hammered his vest, halting the attempt to smash her face in. She rolled to her feet and demanded Krauser not do it again. When Chris loaded his gun and pointed it at her face in the next moment, she cried out her fear. Fear for her brother, who received three bullets to the arm holding the gun.

The weapon dropped from his grip and he forgot her at the same time. His focus was for Leon, who'd put the bullets in him. She stared in disbelief and astonishment as a bullet dropped out of his arm. Though his clothing prevented her from seeing the wounds clearly, judging by the near absence of blood, they were healing or healed already.

Chris's virus was working overtime here. Last she had known, his healing ability was nowhere near this advanced. It took hours to recover completely from his injuries. It was why, with the huge amount of blood police found in the room her brother vanished, they eventually ruled him dead despite his special condition. Something was very different about Chris, in body as much as in mind. Not good.

Her brother went for her fiance, determined.

“Run, Leon!” she shouted, afraid.

He didn't heed her and moved forward into the fight. Chris slammed the butt of his handgun against the side of Leon's head and tried to shoot him with the muzzle shoved into his skull. She could breathe again when Eva came to his aid. The mother of two hadn't lost a step in all the time she'd sidelined herself from the dangerous life of a vigilante soldier.

Claire watched in awe while Eva propelled her body into a forward somersault off the elevated platform. She maneuvered straight into Chris before he could pull the trigger and the man lost his second gun. The force of her body thrown onto him was enough to bring them both to the floor as well.

She looked at them anxiously, waiting to see what would happen. She was incapable of drawing her weapon against Chris. Once she'd seen it was him, she just couldn't.

Grateful was how she felt to have Wesker there to pull her brother off the ground and clear of where Eva was recovering from her acrobatic assault. Claire looked on as the pair of them resumed the violent fight.

“Too easy, always too easy.”

Wesker didn't like that, even though Chris said it as fact, and not at all as a taunt. They exchanged blows, each blocking and landing hits interchangeably. The difference was her brother didn't appear to be feeling any of the attacks, while Wesker was feeling strikes that found their mark.

Had she ever seen Wesker tire? Right now, he was beginning to display signs of perspiration. Heck, she never knew he did that anymore. Krauser and Leon were moving in to join the ongoing battle and Wesker pulled back. In the past, the superhuman absorbed punches and kicks like they were nothing. Now Chris could deal actual damage to him.

Someone had done something. Chris never moved so fast in his life. Here today, he was moving at Wesker's speed easy, minus the speed running trick. She gasped aloud when her brother jammed a knife into Krauser's upper chest. The superhuman man grunted and stumbled backward. Chris pulled another knife from his ankle and swung about to slice open Leon's throat.

Leon was quick enough to avoid the attempt and Claire pulled her gun from its holster. She didn't aim it at him, but she stared at Chris wide-eyed and alert. If she had to... Could she?

“Chris!” she tried helplessly.

“Helicopters!” Eva called out.

As if on cue, a black chopper flew over them, past the ship. A second followed, and a third. The first was coming back around again. She was torn between keeping an eye on the unmarked helicopters or her out of character and deadly brother. Alive and not the same. What were they going to do?

Her eyes sought her brother's new location. He'd put a little distance between them and stood ramrod straight. Slowly, he reached up to grasp the handle of the sword on his back. She watched him draw his sword, patiently waiting for what was to come. So like Chris, so unlike Chris.

The blade returned to its sheath and he was running. She gasped and ducked to the side as he raced past, along the narrow passageway on the deck. Ashamedly, she straightened up and felt the fear and uncertainty give way to anger. She ran after him.

“Follow him!” she yelled for the others without slowing her pace.

She wasn't going to lose him.

They followed him across the length of the entire ship. The others were behind, the passageway too narrow to pass by her even though the likes of Wesker and Krauser easily could in speed. She screamed and dove to the side when bullets hammered into the deck's surface at this end of the giant vessel.

“Look out!” she warned her companions behind her.

Another of the helicopters was here, hovering low, men grappling down to the deck below on ropes. Men in assault gear of a gray color. Soldiers, mercenaries, hired guns. One of them was shooting at Chris via an open door with an automatic gun attached to the floor of the aircraft. Bullets that nearly tore her to shreds in the process.

She screamed again when they tore through Chris, dropping him. Three men with assault rifles moved in, sweeping their weapons cautiously before themselves as they approached where he'd fallen. He twitched and they opened fire. Somehow the additional bullets pounding into him spurred him to action.

Temporarily, she completely forgot where the other helicopters might be. Her concern turned to shock as she watched her brother struck by innumerable bullets, shake it off like nothing happened moments later. He drew his sword and came at the assailants in a flash. She was frozen in place.

“His healing factor is exceptional,” Wesker noted, coming to stand alongside her.

The comment snapped her out of her funk.

“Shut up!”

Krauser zoomed past, almost fast enough to be a blur like Wesker, on par with the likes of Chris's own speed. He engaged one of the men, who thus far avoided Chris's wrath. Claire watched stunned, when he knocked the guy out and took his weapon from his hands.

Removing the clip, he pushed the top bullet into his palm. “Their bullets are unique. They have blue liquid in them.”

“Dr. Sheppard's design,” Wesker said knowingly. “For use against those with viral infections granting them power.”

“Are these her guys then?” Eva questioned impatiently. “Did she do something to Chris?”

“Indeterminant.”

“Wesker!” Leon yelled down.

Claire's eyes raised to spot him. He'd climbed to a much higher platform and was waving his arms downward to alert them. This was unlikely to be good. She went back to Chris throwing a mercenary over the side of the ship. Only then did she realize a second chopper was pulling away from a section of the deck, a portion out of her field of vision.

“Oh my god...” Eva murmured. “Melody's alive. She's here!”

“Move!” Wesker shouted, and ran to sweep up his daughter in a single motion.

He drew toward the side away from the commotion, and she followed out of instinct, staring upward for a second at Leon. He was where he'd been, on one knee now. She wondered what he was thinking but didn't do much more than that before she was distracted. Krauser tugged her by the arm to bring her over to Eva and Wesker.

Wiping the blood leaking from her nose, she looked at him. “What are we doing?”

“Getting out of the way.”

“What does that mean?” she demanded.

He didn't answer and he didn't have to. More soldiers appeared on their end of the ship, and a woman trailed behind them. She looked young, with long flowing hair, and a very pale everything, made further so by the fluorescent lighting of the vessel. Claire had seen her before.

Melody. Chris obsessed over searching for the woman after losing her in Aurora, Colorado. She made it a point to examine her now. The rain wet her hair making it curl, and wind blew it partially into her face, but she never blinked. Her eyes stared straight ahead, glowing blue, focused. It was as if silence followed her.

The bullets cut off, the soldiers still standing started backing away to give her room. She searched for Chris. He dropped the sword he'd taken up against the mercenaries when Melody stopped in place, arm reaching out toward him. Blood trailed from his every visible orifice.

“Melody!” Eva yelled out, beginning to run forward.

She turned a fleeting gaze to the young woman. Claire watched this, looked into her face to try and gauge what she was thinking. There was a sadness there, and resolve.

“I'm sorry,” the woman said to them, to Eva. “He's not him anymore.”

Eva attempted coming to where she was standing. She jolted a step herself at the very stupidity of it. Melody was a dangerous bio-weapon. There were soldiers and helicopters. Chris acting crazy and violent. Too much going on to just be running about half-cocked.

She made it only a few steps before her father yanked her back to him. “Cover your ears!”

Claire glanced at him and clapped her hands over her ears quick when she saw they were already doing it. It was a good thing too. The female bio-weapon had redirected her attention to Chris. A half second later she felt like her own ears were going to bleed when Melody screeched, an agonizing screech.

Hands had gone to her side and her scream was her weapon now. She understood it was hurting Chris, bad. He was buckling, the first time she'd seen him show real weakness since identifying him on this freighter. Melody was a bio-weapon, like her brother...

Mercenaries were inching closer, large needled syringes in hand. What the hell were in those syringes?

“Hey!” she yelled pathetically at them.

They, unsurprisingly, paid no notice to her. Their concentration was firmly on the dangerous man ahead of them. Chris fell forward onto the floor, eyes rolling to the back of his head as something rolled out of his hand. The grenade rolled straight toward Melody, who clamped her lips together and tried to remove herself from its path.

The explosion went off, taking out a chunk of the deck and siding. A couple soldiers were sent flying over the railing and Melody was nearly thrown from the ship too. She was prevented from going over by one of the mercenaries, but the mercenary dropped to his knees almost instantly, clutching his head and his throat.

Claire realized Melody's power was affecting him unintentionally. The weapon was unstable now, melting down. She was losing it from almost getting blown up and thrown into the black ocean. Helicopters were coming around.

Her own head began to throb and she called for Leon, afraid the woman's power was reaching them. It could kill them, right? Eva and Chris had told stories about how emotion ruled her. Her mind linked to her power, making her a very unstable and dangerous weapon. Umbrella had kept her asleep more than awake as a precautionary measure before the day she escaped them.

A door slid open on one of the choppers and she caught sight of a sniper rifle emerging from the opening. She dropped lower to make a smaller target in case they were getting ideas to take her or her companions out, peering their way to make certain they were all okay.

But it was Melody who dropped when a dart shot into her chest. Claire had gotten enough of a look to see the dart injected some kind of substance into her body. It was probable to be a type of sedative. By how rapidly it dropped the woman, it must have been a very high-powered sedative.

“Melody!” Eva screamed.

The girl was wanting to make her way to Melody, but to do so would mean passing Chris. Her brother was wiping blood from his face and looking pretty irritated. He grabbed up his sword and whistled.

A howl tore through the night. She rolled to her feet and ran toward her friends, disbelieving of what she was seeing. The biggest wolf she'd ever laid eyes on was up on the platform just below Leon's position. She was not about to get eaten tonight if that's what the animal had in mind. Enough zombies tried to eat her for a lifetime. That was not the way she was going to go out.

Chris put a fair number of holes in the gas tank of one of the choppers attempting to hover nearby while a gunner took position. The mercenary screamed as he was thrown out, helicopter going into a tailspin. He didn't even let him make it all the way down before he shot a hole through the man's head. Claire watched him splat in front of her on the deck and cried out.

The helicopter was in flames, spinning wildly away from the ship before slamming into the surface of the water with a resounding splash seconds later. She stood with Eva and the others, watching Leon making his way down to them. The wolf jumped onto their level, but made no move to attack anyone.

Claire was left lost as to where she should be paying attention. There was significant potential danger all around her. She ended up settling on who she most cared for and for what was most amazing.

Her brother had completely mastered the use of a blade in the time since his posted death. After snatching the sword off the floor and whistling, he bobbed and weaved across the deck, treating the trained soldiers like they were less capable than children would be in their situation. They were pathetic against him and their deaths came swift. It was horrifying but amazing just the same. Chris had become a nigh unstoppable force.

“Everything is agony.”

It was a long moment to comprehend his words were for them. His words were to all of them standing on the sidelines. It was another moment for her to comprehend it was because Eva tried unsuccessfully to reach out to him. She'd gotten far enough from her father to throw an object at him. She couldn't see what it was and then Leon landed beside her, drawing her gaze from the scene temporarily.

The wolf ran to its apparent companion when he made a single snap with his fingers. Impossibly large creature..and she noted its eyes were a bright green. Chris's were as well. His eyes were beginning to glow a deep and brilliant green color. The wolf and man exchanged looks and then he was staring back to them, brightness fading a bit.

“Living is pain,” he told them. “Allow me to save you from pain.”

That sounded awfully foreboding. He swung his blade through the air fast, holding it steady and extended from his body on the right. The speed of the swing had removed the blood off the blade. He came for them.

His attack was diverted by Wesker, who did his best to deal damage to the psychotic former BSAA agent and deliverer of justice. Her brother was trying to kill him in earnest. He would probably kill every last one of them if left to his own devices. Luckily, she supposed, the hired guns weren't done trying to take him down.

One of the intact helicopters returned and drew Chris's gaze. She watched in astonishment as he broke apart from the fight with Wesker mid-attack. He did so by pushing off of the man's chest with both feet, propelling himself through the air and higher than what was naturally possible for someone to do. He managed to snag hold of one of the landing bars and used it to swing up onto the front of the aircraft.

She looked on as he drove the sword through the front windshield and into the pilot. Chris didn't wait much before he pulled the blade back out and was moving. He slid the sword into the metal siding, cutting into the gas tank, fluid streaming out of the fresh gap. A soldier tried to shoot him from the interior of the chopper and he responded by putting a sword in his chest for his trouble.

Chris dropped to the deck floor gracefully and was moving as soon as he landed. The wolf bounded along behind him. She heard Eva yelling and saw Melody's prone form was gone. The third and now final helicopter pulling away from the ship was bound to have her inside, resulting in the younger woman's spurred on fury.

She started when an elbow bumped into her side but it was only Leon. Breathing in and out, she relaxed and saw what she needed to do. Wesker and Krauser were with Eva, keeping the woman from doing anything too insane. She had Leon. Tugging Leon by the arm for a second, he picked up on what she wanted and they ran after Chris.

The wolf howled and morphed in front of their eyes. It happened so suddenly. One minute there was an oversized wolf, but it was still a wolf; the next minute its skin was bulging and shifting, growing in size and transforming its shape. There was no reasonable or logical explanation for what they were witnessing. A wolf becoming what amounted to a ginormous creature with expansive wings spreading out from its furry body. The creature stood before them.

She exchanged a concerned and exhausted look with Leon. How did these things always seem to find them?

The creature departed from the ground, wings aloft. It began to climb the ship's poles, seeking higher ground. It worried her as to what precisely it was up to. Chris appeared in her line of sight and she was ashamed for not realizing he disappeared in the first place.

“Chris! Please, remember me. Chris.”

“Everyone who fights me dies.”

She could do nothing but stand with Leon and stare as Chris made his way swiftly up the tallest ladder to the tallest platform on the cargo vessel. When she could see he was climbing onto the back of his dragon-like wolf friend, it became clear he was jumping ship. His doing that and saying what he just said... Leon put it together around when she did, but spat it out a split-second before she could.

“The ship's wired. Go, go, go!”

They ran for the other side of the ship instead of going directly off the ticking time-bomb. They had to warn the others and then bail to the safety of the waters. What the heck were they supposed to do once off? Would they be able to locate their boat in the darkness and steadily intensifying rain? Assuming, of course, the impending explosion didn't destroy their transport alongside the freighter.

She caught sight of the others just as the first explosion occurred. It was somewhere deep inside the ship's interior but it was a large one, and the ship began to tremble beneath her feet. A second and then third explosion went off seconds later. The subsequent explosions brought the fire to the surface levels and she didn't need to say a word to them.

Together they ran for the nearest railing of the ship and Krauser dove over the side without hesitation. She grabbed Eva by the arm when the younger woman tried to insist they find Chris, pointing out the flying form of the creature moving away from the destructing vessel. Claire wanted her brother back, too. But right now he was gone, and they were going to be in a much worse way if they didn't get off this ship.

“We have to go!” she yelled above the rain and chained explosions.

Taking Eva by the arm, she brought them both over the side. They plunged into freezing water, water that swallowed up her fears and worries. It pushed away her doubts and painful thoughts, until all that was left was survival.


	2. Ada

_Border of Aurora, Colorado, 2009_

The test subject was loaded rather unceremoniously into the transport vehicle fully equipped with a cryogenic storage tank in the shape of a solid box. The moderately successful Umbrella test subject nicknamed Melody, by the recently deceased Richard Murphy, was inside. The very same woman who had befriended current and former government agents, the sister of the former government agent, and a teenage girl, as well as being accepted by a mercenary and a man considered a terrorist due to his continued involvement with biological weaponry. Albert Wesker was a man with his hand in everything it would seem.

Ada Wong watched the two men slam the back doors of the transport shut, her betrayal sealed along with the lock sliding across the doors. Unfortunately for the peculiar group of people working together against Umbrella, betrayal was a thing that came second nature to her. Her latest employer wanted Umbrella's most recent relatively successful test subject after the rumor of her escape spread through the black market information network. No, _its_. Melody wasn't a her, she was an it. An it because she was manufactured into existence, not born. To avoid humanizing it would be easiest. Then she wouldn't have to feel guilt over her actions.

As soon as she thought guilt, her mind shifted to thoughts of Leon. He was the one who brought hesitation to her. Ada had actually liked working with him and the others for whatever brief amount of time it may have been. She didn't rely on anyone though. Never had and she never would allow herself to. Relying on someone else would only give them the opportunity to let her down. Her past spoke volumes of this, but it was unlikely she would ever trust a person enough to explain a possible why. So she wouldn't. Betrayal was her thing, not trust. Even though Leon Kennedy could cause her better side to come out and have her do the decent thing, in the end, the job she was on always prevailed.

One of the men nodded in her direction as a way of bidding her farewell before going around to the front of the vehicle on the driver's side. The other came up and handed her an envelope. It would have her payment inside and she didn't bother to check it. She merely took it, gave him a sweet smile, and told him it was a pleasure doing business. Turning on her heel, she strode away knowing he was watching her and those long legs of hers as she went.

A few yards from the vehicle and she had already forgotten the man. Removing the contents of the envelope and tucking it away, she grabbed a lighter she had attached to a thigh holster hidden under her long dress. She set the empty envelope on fire and let it flutter to the ground as the flames consumed it. No need to leave fingerprints laying around near these people she completed business with, in case their bosses decided they didn't want loose ends existing and tried to find and eliminate her.

Ada pulled out her cell phone and dialed the number recently given to her that she devoted to memory for later use. Someone on the other end picked up and she found herself smiling as she spoke, because she needed this sort of thing to take her mind off of the reality of her life. She needed to keep busy.

“Hello, HUNK,. You said you might have a job for me?”

/

_Eastern Slav Republic, Eastern Europe, December 2009_

Hired guns were idiots. It made her job a whole lot easier. When she informed the leader of a local faction of mercenaries in some desolate, God-forsaken country in the Slav Republic, she was selling stolen merchandise for cheap, he ate it up. All too eagerly he purchased the samples of the newly developed C-Virus to deliver to his fighting men. He believed the injections to be a type of strength and energy booster. Fool.

She held no pity for someone who couldn't be bothered to do the research, and who would accept gifts from strangers. Ada's orders were simple. Give the virus away, specifically so it would fall into the hands of one young soldier in particular, the offspring of an old..acquaintance. Her employer wished to learn if the soldier, Jake Muller, would be immune to this new virus. Charging a small amount for each injection had been her idea. Why not part a fool from his money?

The sale had gone off without a hitch, and she was here now to hand over the purchased injections. Ada really didn't want to be working for the likes of Darius Greene, but he'd been involving himself in Simmons's business, and such knowledge didn't sit well with her. It piqued her interest more than she'd like to admit, and she found herself keeping tabs on Greene's affairs more than was wise. Doing so went against her rules as an objective hire who got difficult tasks completed discretely.

Failure to follow her own rules on occasion, stemmed from a small pang of regret she occasionally felt bubbling up in her stomach. There was one regret in particular of late. The bio-weapon with a name was gone because of her, and what she never let bother her, bothered her. Melody was the creature's name. Greene's work closely correlated to what the bio-weapon Melody had become embroiled in before her capture and sale to a high paying client, so she watched Greene. She might have sold the creature to an anonymous and wealthy party earlier that year, and both were now places unknown, but Greene's ability to obsess remained firmly in place.

He was looking for something, and she wanted to know what that something happened to be. _Can't blame a girl for being curious, right?_

“You must be the one.”

Ada rotated on her heel and fixed a firm and fake smile upon her face. “And you must be quite the observant leader of an anti-government army.”

The man completely missed her sarcasm and grinned broadly. “Yup. That's me. I knew you had to be her. Ain't no one dressed like that a part of this war.”

“What's wrong with the way I'm dressed?” she queried politely, sauntering closer.

“Wearing red,” he replied. “Dead.”

Her buyer chuckled at his own perceived cleverness and she fought the eye roll. She removed the satchel from her shoulder and tossed it over to him. Automatically, her arms folded in front of her chest.

“It's all there. Let's do this.”

He laughed and shook his head, raising gloved hands up as if to wave away her desire to get down to business. It turned out, he was only trying to wave away his dismal attempt at humor.

“I meant no offense. Your jacket is very nice. I like a girl in leather. It's just, red isn't the best color to be wearing in these parts. Not safe.”

Ada smiled slyly. “I can take care of myself.”

“I'm sure you can,” he said, coming forward to kneel before the bag.

She watched him open the satchel and he whistled at the packaged injections that lay inside. “Victory, here we come.”

Shaking his head as he became aware of their situation and what he was meant to be doing, the leader straightened up and hollered for a name in which she was unfamiliar. A guy wearing a scarf concealing his mouth and nose, jacket sleeve bearing the rebel insignia, walked out of one of the doorless buildings surrounding the immediate area. The soldier came to hand her a dirty and torn duffel bag.

Accepting the bag, she merely glanced inside to see there was money. Ada didn't need to count. She didn't care about the money. It was a means to an end, and if it wasn't enough for whatever she might need in the future, she would arrange things to make it happen.

The soldier moved away from her to go to his leader, who removed one of the injections from the satchel and handed the remainder left inside to him. Her eyes trailed him as he walked away before her eyes found the leader again. The man was rotating the item in his hands, viewing the light red fluid contained inside with a misplaced yearning.

They thought this delivery would win them the war. They thought the injection would grant them a hard-fought victory. It would bring them death or worse. These people were like all the others looking for solutions in all the wrong places.

She turned away as he continued to examine his prize with growing greed. Time for the second part of her job. There was a young soldier to find. Soon, every soldier would be infected, but there was just the one she had to confirm infection.

/

_Outside Belfort, France, December 2009_

Approaching the elevator, she stepped inside and hit the button she needed. She took a deep breath and exhaled, glad to be alone a while longer. A pair of scientists ducked through the door before it could close fully. Of course.

She was a tad annoyed at the unwanted company. Nothing was going the way she wanted this week and that was unusual. Typically she could make everything go her way, or at least get the end result she desired. This time, everything went right until it didn't. Failure wasn't pleasant to bring to the boss.

The male one of the scientists was staring. She could feel his eyes boring into the back of her neck. How delightful.

She angled to see the man better and he quickly looked away. That didn't last long and he was looking back again. When he smiled, she sighed tiredly, knowing he was going to open his mouth.

“You're that special agent lady, right? The one Darius hired to help with the new big project he's trying to get off the ground?”

“If I wasn't,” she murmured. “Would I be here?”

The man laughed like she said something funny.

“It must be astonishing to bear witness to our work first-hand. Tell me, any signs of success out there yet?”

She gave him a look, noting from the side of her eye, the female scientist was shaking her head and looking downward. The woman appeared somewhat embarrassed by her colleague. As well she should be.

“I must admit,” the scientist went on, “My curiosity is aroused by the rumor mill around the place. Not knowing every detail can be rather unbearable sometimes. Come on, can you divulge any information to me?”

Ada gingerly put a hand to her hip and glanced his way with disinterest. “Nothing for you.”

Reconsidering her position, she decided to throw them a bone. Many of these people didn't deserve what came for them. Everyone deserved an opportunity to make a better choice, yeah?

“Why don't you leave the big ideas to your boss. You'll only get killed faster by asking questions.”

The woman appeared put off, arms folding across her chest. “What was that?”

Her colleague easily skimmed over her forward suggestion, obfuscating what she said either intentionally or not.

“No success yet then,” he assumed, pouting. “Hm. Shame. It's incredibly frustrating being cooped up inside white walls day in and day out, never getting to experience any of the field experiments. I'd quite like to see it someday.”

Bemusement twitched the corners of her lips upward slightly. “What is it you think I do?”

She used a tone that revealed she knew full well he didn't know. When the man opened his mouth to respond, the elevator dinged softly as it reached their selected floor. His mouth closed while the door slid open. When they began the walk down the blindingly white corridor, unlucky enough to be headed in the same direction, he tried again.

“As far as we've been made aware, you do things we can't for Mr. Greene. You can get in and out of places most people can't. You retrieve and deliver items we need to do our tests and research.”

“Gerry-”

“Yes?” the man interrupted his co-worker. “Am I right?”

Ada smiled. “Right. You have no idea.”

She reached her destination and gladly waved a polite goodbye to the pair of scientists. Taking a key card out of her jacket pocket, she tried a final time to warn. Perhaps age was making her soft.

“Greene is unhinged. I'm not sure if news from the outside world is allowed in here, but something very bad happened and it wouldn't have happened without Greene's help. If you care anything about yourselves, run far away from here.”

Ada didn't say anything more. They weren't worth it if they didn't listen, if they didn't think enough outside of their little boxes to question what they did for a living. She had no time for them.

As she entered the inner laboratory, Ada got straight to business.

“The test was a success,” she announced. “The target is immune to the C-Virus. No side effects were witnessed while his..current associates submitted almost immediately.”

It was a bit cold in here for her tastes. Her arms folded across her chest. Perhaps a cleavage bearing red shirt hadn't been the wisest decision today. Eh, she'd never been one to select her attire based on potential temperature. As long as she was mobile and flexible, it worked for her. At least the tight black pants and light jacket were warm, and she absolutely adored the heeled boots.

“Yet you were unable to retrieve him. You failed in your mission.”

She examined Darius Greene. He used to be scary on account of his being a tough and devoted man, hell-bent on achieving his own ends. Once noble, his cause was a search to find and rescue his brother, Skye, but he became everything but noble when his brother was killed. No, now he was kind of crazy, the psychopathic and paranoid type. Which made him go from scary to terrifying. Every day he grew more and more insane, increasingly believing there was someone out to get him, growing convinced he needed to find some sort of magical elixir of immortality.

“The situation became complicated,” she explained. “Chris Redfield and his friends showed up and discovered the target before I was able to extract him.”

Two scientists in white lab coats walked by directly in front of her line of vision, momentarily drawing her attention elsewhere. Then she finished what she was saying, returning her gaze to Greene. He would be interested in what she had to tell.

“Another was there as well. Sherry Birkin.”

“You don't say... The young lady is supposed to be a special one...”

Darius seemed distracted from his thoughts and turned from Ada to look at something else. Something that the camera was zooming in on now as everyone in the bright white room was moving to get a good look. A ghastly wail filled the area as what had once been the prone form of a man began to morph and change, mutating into something rather other than human. What was once a regular man, stood now at least seven feet tall with extremely pale skin. It had a significantly muscular build with arms and legs that appeared abnormal, lengthy. The hands had long fingers with sharp claws instead of fingernails, the head was bald, and the back was covered in hard scales all the way from the neck on down to the swishing tail moving to and fro.

A horrific scream filled the lab and the scientists were looking a little tense and freaked out by the creature inside the cage. The scaly tail slammed against the bars but they didn't bend. Undoubtedly the bars were some kind of reinforced metal designed to keep experiments such as it in.

“Interesting..but not exactly what I had in mind. We may need a better source. Thank you for your services, Ms. Wong. We'll no longer be requiring them. I plan to use an old employer of yours in the next stage of this game, and surely you will have no desire to be anywhere near him after your less than amicable departure.”

So dismissive, of both the experiment's result and her. Amazing how sane and insane a person could sometimes appear. Her eyes trailed a female scientist with a serious injury to her face. It looked as though a fireball had seared off one side of her face. She tore her eyes from the sight when the woman noticed her stare and fixed a gaze of steel on her.

“Fine by me,” Ada responded to Greene, shifting toward him. “Have fun with your toy.”

“Oh I intend to.”

On her way out, the big boss had begun to blab on and on about world domination and living forever. The scarred lady was agreeing with him and responded with how the ends always justified the means. What was that all about?

One new thing she'd learned from her brief visit was her distribution of the C-Virus to the soldiers had worked in this old Umbrella facility's favor. The world believed the threat must have been inside the contamination site, like how Umbrella's lab had been underground in Raccoon City. To the world, the bombing erased and finished off the danger. They had no idea the threat was just beyond those borders, and the experimentation was nowhere near finished. Things were only going to get worse in this area.

Time to get away.

/

_Westchester County, New York, Eastern Warehouses, 2011_

She preferred to avoid a fight if it could be helped. The use of stealth made her missions much more simple, and saved a lot of time too. There always seemed to be those unavoidable situations on every mission though. This one, well, she kept running into such situations.

Security wasn't totally embarrassing in this facility. The generic building camouflaged to conceal its true identity was applaudable. Heavily armed guards running around trying to find her were on high alert and proved skilled combatants. Darius Greene may have become paranoid and crazier in recent years, but he knew what kind of individuals to assemble on his team.

Despite such security, she had little trouble reaching the lower levels. She silently incapacitated anyone in her path and found herself looking upon the various laboratories stretched out before her. The first one on her left proved fruitless, mere standard lab equipment stocked on counters and tables. The next one was far more bountiful.

Ada carefully examined and selected the viruses in sealed vials that she wanted. She took extreme care to slide them into padded and sturdy casing for travel. A soft click reached her ears as one of her heeled boots settled on a square tile as insignificant as the rest. Except as soon as she did put weight on this particular tile, a much louder noise reverberated about the room. The door slid shut.

“Well,” she murmured. “That can't be good.”

There came a whirring sound from above. She straightened her stance, lifting her weight off the tile as she walked to the door. Gas began leaking in from the ventilation system, clearly visible by the odd lighting of the room and audible by a soft hissing noise. She waved her hand in front of the automatic door. It gave a beep and a red light flashed over the frame. The door remained closed.

Her eyes scrutinized the problem above her. “Crap.”

First she tried to manipulate the wires operating the door from behind one of the wall panels. Nothing happened. Next, she scanned the room with her eyes, searching for anything unusual or out of place. There had to be something to stop the gas from the inside. There had to be, or she wouldn't have anything much to worry about very soon.

There was a short bookcase full of scientific texts along the wall. Maybe something. She started tugging books off the shelves, hoping for one that would serve to open the door. No such luck.

She spun around and sought a different way. The amount of gas was increasing, beginning to descend lower and increasing the difficulty to see and breathe through it. Coughing, she cupped a hand over her mouth and nose, trying to breathe as little as possible. That was when she saw it.

What appeared to be a solid gold paper-weight sat on the top shelf of a cabinet. The object was carved into a detailed shape of a wolf. It seemed entirely pointless to place the thing in a lab, on a high shelf. So maybe...

Ada shoved a crate against the cabinet from its former position near the wall. She climbed up and lifted the heavy paper-weight in her hands. The hissing ceased immediately and the door beeped behind her. By the time she slid off the crate, visibility in the room had greatly increased and she could breathe easily again as the clouds evaporated.

Well that was good. She didn't feel like suffocating today. Checking the precious cargo attached to her thigh, she let the fabric of her long dress fall back against her leg. She walked out of her almost death chamber to the hallway.

“Pardon me. Now that you're not dying, the second floor landing might be a good place to be.”

Her eyes shot up to a speaker above and farther down the hall. She narrowed her gaze at the device. Who was that and was she watching her? She didn't see any noticeable cameras, but that didn't mean there weren't any.

“Second floor, Ms. Wong. Don't delay.”

The female voice cut off and everything returned to silence. Huh. Moving on. Her curiosity raised, she headed for the elevator. Before the doors could slide all the way closed, she tossed out a vial of T-Virus. Part of the job, and it wasn't like the people working here didn't ask for horror to happen to them eventually. Justice of a sort in her mind.

Alarms began to sound right when the elevator door opened to the second floor. They had warning about the viral outbreak now. Trouble with a viral outbreak, it was complicated to escape, especially when the system program to initiate preventative measures had been overridden by hers truly, the other day. It was doubtful many would get out before it was too late.

Ada stepped out of the elevator, keeping vigilant in case someone was trying to walk her into a trap. Her fingers remained low, hovering over the gun holstered to her thigh. Still she found herself blindsided.

A man barreled into her from the side and she fell hard. She managed to avoid her assailant's attempt to keep her down by pushing her body forward in a roll. He came after her before she was even up and so staying low, she swung her legs around, knocking him to the floor.

Ada punched him several times in the face, rendering the security guard unconscious. She'd barely straightened when someone grabbed her from behind. Flailing, she choked and struggled madly against his large hands squeezing the life out of her.

She managed to slip out her knife and wasted no time stabbing it into one of the offending hands. The man released her and staggered away, clutching his hand. She spun to fully confront her attacker and stared into the face of Darius Greene.

Rubbing her throat, she placed a hand on her gun. “Let me guess, you're blaming me for ruining your facility.”

Darius glared. “The project is in its infancy. I have so much to accomplish. A single woman will not stop me.”

“You let this happen when you let your control slip,” she told him, drawing her weapon. “So like Umbrella.”

“I am nothing like Umbrella!” Darius screamed.

Enraged by her words, he charged. She slipped out of his reach and utilized her hookshot to pull herself up to a higher ledge, a short balcony on the third floor. Firmly out of his grasp, she put away the tool and lifted her handgun to point at his face.

“Seems unfair, doesn't it? All your plotting, all your progress, all your reason. It means nothing now. It's all gone.”

He didn't even try to avoid it. He looked her right in the eye and stayed where he was standing. It made her wonder if part of him wanted the bullet. The cruelty and absurdity of Umbrella had to end.

She fired the shot and it hit him through the forehead. Greene collapsed and he did not get up again. Only human. Considering some of the monsters she'd come against that refused to stay down, it was a relief.

Ada made her way out of the building carefully but quickly. The virus was spreading down below and she didn't doubt eventually it would make it to the main floor. She allowed a brief detour to ensure the exterior doors would be locked before slipping out and under clear skies. A few blocks down the street her car awaited.

It did bother her, just how easy it had all been aside from the high class scuffles. The woman on the intercom must have been helping her more than she had seen. Someone who perhaps also worked for her employer in this mission. Greene had been sabotaged for some time, and she worried this employer might be after the man's work. Ada signed up for this mission to avoid anyone continuing the project that already killed so many. It was a major reason she was on board with killing anyone inside the facility by releasing the T-Virus. She didn't know precisely what Darius tried to accomplish, but it couldn't be good. It was never good with these people.

She never asked questions. It was better not to know in most cases. It was professional to stay detached and get the job done without fuss. But this job lingered on her mind.

/

_Boulder, Colorado, July 2012_

It was a sunny day. She didn't typically bother attending a gathering such a this, but this one just seemed right. She could admit the event happening before her eyes didn't hold much emotion for her. It took not an insignificant amount of effort to be sure there was no one and nothing to care about, and she didn't need anyone to ever care for her either. She never wanted to be someone mourned.

The reason for the people gathered here on this day was someone deeply mourned. He had friends, co-workers, and family who cared that he was gone. Ada knew there was a single reason she had been drawn to this place on this day. Respect.

There was no body in the casket because it was never found. But lots of blood. Rivers of blood judging by the photographs she'd taken upon herself to retrieve. No body in the casket at the funeral. It was all kinds of messed up. Preferable to the other option some people chose, where the body was made to look nice and put on display for people to view. That was just bizarre. Who would ever want to look at the shell of a person? The person they were wasn't there anymore. Why drag it out for everyone?

This man had been declared dead once before, but no one got around to getting him a tombstone then. Now they had one and the whole funeral to go with it. Ada was a bit surprised he was receiving full military honors considering his questionable discharge quite a few years ago, but didn't find it at all inappropriate. A man such as he, brave and self-less to the point of utter disregard for his own well-being, deserved recognition from somebody.

She spotted his sister in the front, along with old friends. It took her a moment longer to locate Wesker's daughter. The young woman had hosted the deceased in her home for some time shortly before his death. Coincidence? Probably. _But some things you never can tell._

Speaking of Wesker, he had shown up too. His relationship with the deceased had been tumultuous to say the least. Ada hadn't expected to see him here. She thought there was more animosity there than anything else.

He was keeping to the background, by the trees and behind the crowd, much like herself. Neither wanted to be seen in this place. Though he did see her, she knew he did, he did nothing to indicate it.

Ada wrapped her tan coat more tightly around her thin red dress, and glanced toward the stone at the head of the casket one final time. Its words were as fitting as could be for anyone now buried in the ground, even metaphorically in this particular case. Saying farewells to a person destined to be forgotten in the eventual future to come. It was why anonymity was much better. You could never be forgotten if no one knew you in the first place. She walked away and didn't look back.

/

_Pskova, Russia, 2017_

This was a ghost town. Once housing twelve-hundred people in a remote mining town, it was abandoned twenty years ago. Bio-terrorism was on the rise, when in the year following Greene's death, things quieted down until recent months. The government put together a team to investigate causes and sources of attacks and infection incidents. Ada had been tracking a pair of these agents for some time now.

These particular agents were pretty good, searching the right places for their answers. They didn't always find what they should have, but she was in their shadows, ready to see what they missed. Like this morning, they left the area completely missing the ghost town. They didn't have the contacts she had and so she knew where to go.

Walking into the large hotel building, still a beautiful destination despite the layers of dust and eerie atmosphere of any place suddenly abandoned, she headed straight for the staircase and behind it to the double doors. She shivered a little. It was freezing in this part of the region.

Only the sound of her footsteps echoing could be heard in the empty halls. She entered the pool room and climbed into the empty pool. Grabbing the scanner out of her bag, she turned it on, watching the screen as she moved across the tile floor. There was a beep after a few moments. Ada stopped in place.

She put the scanner away and knelt, searching for the spot where the bottom was loose. Struggling to dig her fingers beneath the crumbling square of concrete, she lifted and tossed it to the side. Hidden in the shallow hole was a small square case.

Ada lifted it up and popped the top open. Inside was a flash drive and a piece of paper folded over several times. She pocketed the drive and unfolded the paper. Reading it felt like she was reading the written words of a mad man.

_The result of this work will be a man who cannot die. He will be obedient, skillful, intelligent, and lethal. The perfect soldier, near invincible. He will be a legend, capable of, should he decide, destroying the world or saving it. One day that man will die and I will take his place as a truly invincible god. -Archer_

A seemingly motivated and insane scientist. Nothing new there. She had traced this project for years, trying to get to the bottom of what it was and how far along the project had gotten. Dead end after dead end and finally her contact came through for her. She didn't have the identity of her contact, but whoever it was led her to some interesting places often enough to pay attention when information was given. This might prove to be the most useful trip if the flash drive had anything valuable on it.

When she started to fold the note up, she noticed a few lines scrawled out on the back. Turning the paper over, she read what was there and her breath caught in her throat. Ada finished folding the paper and pocketed it. This Archer may have gotten somewhere with experiments, and it was not going to be good for the world.

Someone had gotten their hands on the R-Virus, G-Virus, and C-Virus.


	3. Project Legend

_Pacific Ocean, exact location unknown_

When the freighter exploded and the last of the flames sunk beneath the black surface, everything became swamped in darkness. The stars continued to be covered by rain clouds and so they were left with nothing to see by. Eva tread water tiredly, emotionally and physically drained from the events of the night before ever even entering the cold ocean.

“What do we do?” she screamed to the others, struggling to keep her head above churning water.

Blinking raindrops out of her eyes, she squinted to see what might have been a light. A wave of the ocean washed over her face and she coughed and sputtered on the salty liquid. Whatever she thought might have been, wasn't there. Imaginings of a wistful nature perhaps.

Particularly loud splashes behind and on the left drew her attention. She squinted in the dark to try and see what was making all the noise. It was a disgruntled and very wet government agent she managed to make out despite the lack of light.

“We're all in agreement, right? This is Krauser's fault. I assume it was his half-assed plan that put us here,” Leon growled, choking on some water with his last words.

Eva identified Claire treading water in close proximity to Leon when she mumbled her half-hearted agreement. She sounded exhausted. The older woman didn't bother to form whole words in response. Not worth the energy to use oxygen for complaining. Eva was on the same page there, however...

“Wesker!” she yelled, assuming he had to be nearby.

“I'm thinking,” came his calm and level reply from a vague shadowy outline a few yards out.

“Thinking? Really? Thinking about how to get out of our present predicament or thinking about the insanity that just took place on that ship? Either way, can you hurry it up? The water's freezing!”

Did she hear an engine?

“Ah.” She lifted a hand to shield her face as a blinding searchlight landed on her. “Rescue?”

“Keep your hands in plain sight and remain stationary!” She grimaced while the waves continued to lob her around a bit. “Keep them where we can see them!”

Somebody must not have been listening or they didn't get how difficult it was to obey a freeze command in the goddamn ocean. A second light illuminated her briefly before shifting to Claire and Leon's location. Eva tried to get a look at the people looking at them. The speaker was a woman, and there appeared to be several other figures, possibly male, standing around behind her. Other than that she was at a loss.

“Identify yourselves!” someone finally demanded. Leon.

“The Coast Guard. Swim over, we'll pull you up.”

One by one they swam to the boat and were pulled up. A second boat loitered nearby and commands brought Krauser and Leon to board that one. Eva climbed on the first boat's ladder after Claire and before her dad. A man in uniform reached down to tug her the rest of the way onto the boat.

Shivering, another Coast Guard man handed her a blanket and she wrapped it around her shoulders. She was sat on a wet bench beside Wesker, who moved his blanket to her lap to give her additional covering. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and adjusted the sunglasses impressively yet on his face. His head carefully inclined toward the floor, attempting to keep the peculiar eyes from being seen.

Claire refused to sit and was pacing in the tiny space available to do so. She was shaking from the cold, the blanket not wrapped well on her body. Her mind was elsewhere. Eva could relate.

A man in military get-up and a woman in a pant suit all FBI style, approached the overtly distraught among them. The pair looked to be in the ballpark of thirty years old, identical stern expressions worn. Eva eyed the sniper rifle held casual in the guy's hands. Out of place or were these people here for a purpose? They definitely didn't belong with search and rescue.

“We told you people to go home, didn't we?”

She realized she recognized them and they sure remembered their faces in turn. There was a small bruise beneath the jaw of the woman she hit in anger. Captain so and so and agent whoever, DSO investigators. They were investigating the break in at her work and the terrorist on the news.

Claire narrowed her eyes, irritated at the confrontation. “Agent..?”

“ _Captain_ Nivans, Piers Nivans,” he corrected. “Your boyfriend over there would like to get fired, is that it?”

“He's doing what he can to protect people and you know it,” she snapped.

Surprisingly, it shut the guy up. His silence cued the other to start talking, much to all of their chagrin.

“Are you happy? You really made this a mess. You create a disaster to go with what New York has been reduced to? What were you thinking? What were you hoping to accomplish by coming out here?”

“We didn't do any harm. There was nobody worth saving on that ship.” Claire stiffened, who she was forgetting having dawned on her in an instant, and she muttered, “You wouldn't get it.”

“Get what?” the woman demanded.

The boats were in motion, heading toward lights in the distance. The docks they embarked from no doubt. Eva pondered how she hadn't noticed them until now. She didn't see their own boat anywhere. The explosion must have reduced it to splinters and sunk it along with the giant freighter.

“We found your terrorist, Agent Harper. You're welcome.”

The two switched attention to her dad and she distracted them so his eyes wouldn't be spotted. “You were at the hospital. You followed us?”

“That's right,” Harper uttered, self-approval extending to her posture. “I knew we should have sequestered you all for questioning then. We'll be doing it now.”

“You wouldn't have known where to look, but I imagine the giant explosion directed you to our position.”

Could her father not condescend for a few minutes? Captain Nivans was frowning in his direction. Wesker was the biggest theatrical individual who preferred passing under the radar that she had ever met.

“Do I know you somehow?”

“That's between you and your memory, captain,” he replied coyly.

Nivans glared and Eva stood, eyeing the nearing land. She could see uniformed military or police officers scattered about the brightly lit area. The boat Leon and Krauser were on was in the process of disembarking ahead of them. The agent's phone rang and she answered, listening a few seconds and confirming something before thanking and hanging up.

“You were friends with Agent Taylor, is that right?”

“I wouldn't call us friends..but-hey, you said... Does that mean she's not okay?”

A solemn look was given. “I'm sorry. She didn't make it. I was just informed.” A pause, then, “It was a brain hemorrhage. There was nothing they could do.”

A realization occurred. “She was an FBI agent, she-he-He killed her?”

Chris killed Taylor, Melody tried to kill Chris. Why was everything unraveling? What the hell was going on?

“That scumbag terrorist?” Captain Nivans declared. “Yeah, and he's gonna pay for what he's done. New York City in ruins because of that bast-”

“Captain!”

Nivans hesitated responding until they drew closer to the docking site. “What is it, rookie?”

“We apprehended five civilians trespassing and brought them to the perimeter.”

He sighed, glancing in their direction. “Bring them here.”

Eva's mood was not likely to improve. The detective who helped them back in Colorado was dead. Chris killed her when she tried to get between him and the people he was trying to murder. Impossible. Well, it wasn't, but...

Katherine dead and Chris acting like a perfect stranger. Things were just great. She inhaled, jostling into Wesker a bit as the boat braked for docking. He stood, squeezing her shoulder and turning to study the line of warehouses on the waterfront. His height blocked her view and she rolled her eyes, stepping to the right for best visibility.

“Eva, what are we doing?”

She smiled at Claire, doing her best to make it somewhat believable. “Socializing with new friends.”

Agent Harper jumped onto the dock, motioning for the rest to join. The two Coast Guard officers awaited their disembarking and followed them. Captain Nivans was last to get off and ordered them put in an empty guardhouse equipped with half a dozen chairs and a long table. She suspected Wesker and Krauser's cooperation had to do with extracting information from these people over actual submission.

The Coast Guard presence disappeared, replaced by uniformed military types inside the building. This captain's unit it would seem. Sat in a hard chair next to Claire, they were soon joined with Renny, Jake, and the remainder of their revived team. The soldiers sent the men to the wall to sit on the floor where Wesker and Krauser already were, while Sherry and Rebecca got chairs to sit elbow to elbow with them.

Eva smirked, gazing at Nivans and Harper seated on the opposite side, watching for them to settle in their appointed positions. She crossed her arms on her chest, wondering if they believed the females on the team were weaker. After a period of silence, Harper barked an order for their phones to be confiscated. That received a few glowers but every phone was put in the hands of a soldier and ended up on the table top.

The soldiers backed off and Harper looked like she was itching to handle the phones but she refrained. Leaning into the back of the chair, she smiled, scanning the four women across from her. Her arms folded.

“What were you doing out there?”

Eva peeked at her partners. They weren't looking around, staring straight ahead at the would-be interrogators. She mimicked their choice. Solidarity. Nice.

“Why were you attempting to track and apprehend the wanted terrorist on your own?”

Silence.

“You have no official organization or orders. You are not recognized by the government and have no rights to act like vigilantes.”

That one got her.

“So you know about that? Who we were?”

Agent Harper looked relieved someone else was talking. She didn't even look proud. Relaxing a little, her lips formed a thin line and she nodded a single time.

“Red Team, Team Red... A group of vigilantes who shocked everyone when the government actually considered making them into a legitimate organization. I recalled some of the faces from the file. It..came up.”

Rebecca frowned. “What does _that_ mean?”

Harper shifted, settling her arms on the surface of the table. “Look, we identified our suspect. If you saw anything on that ship, you did too.”

Her face fell. They knew her husband was a crazed terrorist? The pair of them appeared satisfied by the reactions they were getting from the line of women. Eva clenched a hand into a fist, leaving it on her thigh. That wasn't him.

A sigh came in exaggerated fashion. “Our investigation is concerning something very specific.”

Harper and Nivans exchanged looks and the former continued sharing what had to be classified data.

“Have you heard of a project called Legend?”

Blank looks. Eva's curiosity got the better of her and she checked the guys sitting along the walls. Nothing given away, but then, if Wesker knew something he wouldn't reveal it. Eva stared at him the longest before giving up when he had the audacity to smirk and wag a finger at her. He didn't know anything and was teasing her for thinking he was some grand genius hell-bent on destroying the world. Apparently he didn't do that anymore, or so he said.

Accepting the lack of response for a response, Harper resumed. “We're investigating rumors of the project's existence. That is our primary objective. For the past year, we learned this 'Legend' project aims to create unstoppable soldiers in order to achieve global control. The project churned out a single success.”

Nivans entered the conversation. “Assassinations, attacks, viral outbreaks or bioweapon creations loosed on unsuspecting populations, and viruses stolen from a highly secured lab. We believe the suspected successful candidate is responsible for these things.”

“Are you just going to dance around the suspect's identity?” Sherry demanded, clearly frustrated.

She went ignored.

“Trouble is,” the captain went on, setting his hands flat on the table. “They selected a poor candidate. See, his genetics and prior infection which we ascertained from a reliable informant are theoretically perfect for that kind of effort. He must have been compatible and turned into a living weapon.”

Harper moved her hands to rest on her knees. “But his strong personality is detrimental. See, their weapon can take control of himself, and his targets are always the same.”

“He turns on his makers,” Leon guessed from behind her on her close left. “And if he can't target them, maybe he goes after people like them.”

“Bingo!” Captain Nivans proclaimed cheerfully. “What does he win, Helena?”

She mocked thinking, however, there wasn't much humor behind the act. “No care for collateral damage, something more monster than man. He's deemed a global terrorist, highest priority threat as far as we're concerned.”

Claire moved her hand and set it atop the man's hand resting on the table. “You've identified my brother? How did you figure it out?”

A bit of shame appeared on him and he withdrew his hands completely, sympathy showing. “We found an old video a few months ago and it matched the photo in his old BSAA file. Facial recognition software matched the New York terrorist to that archived footage.”

They knew Chris was alive months ago? Idiot government agents and their bullshit secrets and investigations. She tried to put aside the anger to find what could benefit her.

“Chris was discovered and you didn't say anything?” Rebecca asked forcefully. “Why didn't you help him? Where did you get the video?”

Eva supposed Rebecca would take it personal. Billy, presently keeping his head toward the ground, was a someone she respected and cared for who had no choice but to disappear from the world. After that, people going missing and getting hurt for no good reason was a trigger for the good doctor. Law enforcement was no longer an interest of hers. She wanted to help people in a different way.

“There was no location identified,” Nivans revealed. “We had nothing and we weren't even sure if the man in that film survived past a few hours, let alone a few years.”

Blatant confusion on Claire's face. This room was beginning to feel real cramped. They were crowded in the space as it was, and a revelation such as that had a way of making the walls close in. Or maybe it was just Eva affected.

Leon stood, remaining by the wall but meeting the gaze of Agent Harper. “The film was dated? It was from years past?”

“Yes, Agent Kennedy.”

She sympathized. How nice for her.

“Show me!” Eva requested without room for argument. “The video. Now.”

“You don't want to see,” she was quick to say.

“I have a right to.”

Nivans insisted, “You don't need those images in your head.”

“I'm his wife. I have a right to know what happened to the father of my children.”

Captain Nivans shook his head in disgruntlement. “Are you planning to be forthcoming about anything? I could settle for some give and take here.”

“You've already played your cards,” Wesker said, grinning. “Unless you provide me with access to the footage you recovered. Then we could be..forthcoming.”

Unnerving. Eva yawned, earlier exhaustion returning now that the tension and adrenaline was easing. She was feeling so much despair she was closer to laughing than crying. Claire was outwardly feeling similar emotions of helplessness and guilt for giving up the search for Chris. She concealed her pain.

“Chris Redfield and his former partner Jill Valentine's outstanding work in the BSAA when it existed, are why we're even talking,” Nivans explained. “The team Redfield put together would have really been something with the full backing of a government and the resources that come with it. It's a damn shame that soldier became compromised. I would do something to fix it. I'll stop him by any means. He would want that.”

Eva fingered the precious thing choking her. “Please.”

It was Agent Harper who relented. “I suppose I can finagle encrypted e-mail delivery to another agent's account. That could pass below the radar.”

She rose and left out the door. Eva assumed to retrieve the video. Nivans seemed to be visibly contemplating and came out with it. He rested an arm on the table and angled his body in Leon's direction.

“This hasn't made the news yet, but Director Simmons has been arrested and imprisoned under accusations of heavy involvement in black market bioweaponry and experimentation.”

“Is he guilty?” asked Leon.

“Yeah. He's guilty.”

Eva scanned Wesker and Leon. The latter worked for the DSO since 2011. She twisted to view Sherry. William Birkin's daughter was retained in government custody under the supervision of Derek C. Simmons since she was twelve. He offered her the role of an agent to grant her freedoms and she opted for true freedom as a vigilante with Chris's offer. Wesker always held an interest in the woman's welfare and she was thinking he knew something about Simmons's affiliations. The man had a knack for information gathering and usage.

“The possibility reached police attention almost a decade ago. A woman came forward claiming she was interviewed for a job to participate in a cloning experiment or some such insanity. I skimmed the transcripts of the precinct she reported the incident to. She feared for her life, claimed Simmons was insane.”

“You wrote her off?” Leon supposed.

“What do you think? We thought she was crazy.”

Sherry turned away from Jake to ask, “What ever happened to her?”

“She disappeared. There's a whole damn cult he's a member of and who were probably responsible. Call themselves 'The Family'. He was running it, we think. It's too bad the lady didn't appear credible to the police. Who knows how many people died because he was out there manipulating things.”

“It's like the BSAA all over again, getting taken over from the inside by bioterrorists. Division of Security Operations is a federally funded anti-bioterrorism force and the guy in charge was working with the likes of known terrorist Darius Greene.”

Claire and Sherry's jaws just about dropped, the latter uttering, “What?”

Nivans was increasingly bitter as he recounted the new information to the gathered team.

“That's just the tip of the conspiracies real or not coming up in the past few hours. One reliable source tells us Simmons ensured the government elected to destroy Raccoon City two decades back. Shit. Can you imagine the scandal and outrage that's gonna come from this?”

The shock was palpable in the room. Silence pervaded for a time. Agent Harper returned, Eva could watch her approach from her position to the door. Nivans adjusted how he sat in his chair to be more forward seated, unhappiness written on his face.

“That and the anti-bioterrorism golden boy being behind the destruction of a major American city...”

“Watch what you say, Captain Nivans,” Harper told him sharply. “We're not authorized to be divulging any of this to the public, let alone these questionable civilians.”

“And here I thought we were making progress on a solid relationship,” Krauser groused, seemingly tired of sitting on the floor. When he stood, he jabbed a finger in Leon's direction. “You should rethink your loyalties. This world is rapidly spinning out of control.”

“Can it, Krauser.”

The retort seemed instinctive. Leon was definitely thinking hard on something. Eva gestured to the case in the agent's hold.

“Is that it?”

She unzipped the leather case and set the tablet on the table. It was ten by seven inches if she had to eyeball it. Eva watched her switch the screen on and turn it to the four of them, but she spoke to a fifth.

“Agent Kennedy, would you sign into your account, please?”

Leon walked over and leaned in between Eva and Sherry to tap in his username and password. He didn't bother caring if anyone was looking at what he typed. Once he gained entry, he selected the latest e-mail file and waited while it loaded. A few seconds passed and a video opened and started playing.

“I must warn you, the content is low quality but what is on it is..disturbing.”

Eva inhaled and a hand fell to the back of her neck, gloved. She didn't have to look. It was her father. She heard others moving their spots and Jake appeared in her line of sight on the left head of the table, doing his best to get some visibility on the small screen. Peering past her shoulder, Billy remained on the ground alone. He'd drawn his knees up, resting his arms on them to cover his ears.

“I got enough nightmares,” he murmured.

His own unit in the military betrayed him and killed innocents while he was deployed abroad. He still risked new nightmares while he was a mercenary for justice under Chris's employ. There he always felt he was doing the good fight though, and he never did get nightmares as bad as that event when he was younger. Eva conceded he was right not to watch and she might not want to be watching either. If there was a reason to think the Chris on this tape wasn't alive any longer...

_10/10/2015 23:09_

“ _Shh... Sh!” A woman's voice whispered, “We're trespassing. Don't get us caught, Dean.”_

_A man chuckled low. “It was your idea that drove us out here. Come on.”_

“ _There could be a story here and I want that promotion. Danny, point the camera on me. Let's go!”_

_The woman flickered into view, image a tad grainy, but her bright red coat was vivid in contrast to the dark and dirty surroundings. She lowered the cordless microphone in her hand while primping curly brown locks. Smoothing her top and tugging at her skirt, she adjusted the bra with a quick yank on a hidden strap and smiled toothily._

“ _How do I look?”_

“ _Great. What's the story? What if we don't find anything?”_

“ _It's not live, moron. If there's nothing, there's nothing.”_

_The sound guy drifted into view briefly, lowering his stick which informed on his job on the crew. “Waste of time though. I could be drinking.”_

“ _Dean, shut up!”_

“ _Let's just do it, guys. It's freezing down here.”_

_The camera panned to a stairwell when he quit talking. There was a shadow of something moving on the far right corner of the picture. Apparently it was unnoticed because the filming returned to the woman._

“ _I'm intrepid journalist, Marie Moore. Known for investigating the curious and risking hazardous conditions to bring the truth to you, the people.” She pivoted, spreading an arm to the probable basement they were standing in. “We've traveled hours to search out an anonymous tip mailed to our-”_

“ _Jesus!”_

“ _Dean! What the fu-?”_

“ _Christ! Oh man...”_

_Her hand went to her hip, microphone making an audible noise when it hit her thigh. “What?”_

“ _What..? Look!”_

_The journalist spun around and the camera moved to scan deeper into the poorly lit room. Marie and Dean moved in front of the camera, slowly walking forward. They turned a corner of a pillar, the cameraman following a couple steps behind. Video gave a buzzing feedback and the picture jumped, static obscuring in shaky lines._

_There were bodies in various states of dress strung up with chains. Some wore tattered remains of fabric, some were nude save for underwear, some were fully dressed. They didn't look human. The skin was..off. Several had elongated limbs or mouths, or oozing growths that just weren't right. A type of infected._

_Temporary feedback from an unknown source came again, lines scrawling and muddling the view. Marie hesitantly approached a body on the wall which didn't appear to have any outward mutations. This one was nude, coated in blood or bruise or dirt for every inch of skin. Her eyes were wide, looking at the camera, obviously scared._

“ _Maybe we should-” The body moved and she screamed, leaping backward._

“ _Holy shit!” was heard from Dean, stumbling in the spot he was rooted._

_The camera aimed at the floor temporarily, Danny panting in fear and horror was heard where nothing could be seen. Trembling hands steadied the camera upright when Dean began babbling about how they should leave. The woman dismissed the idea._

“ _We have to get him down. You know, get help.”_

_Dean peered at his phone. “I don't have bars.”_

_She dropped the microphone and felt along the trail of thick chains. “I can't..I can't find where...”_

_The head of the body raised, a swollen face greeting them. It was male and he was exerting himself merely lifting his chin off his chest._

“ _Help me. Help me...”_

_His voice was strained and raspy. Marie stopped yanking on the chains after he groaned in pain from her efforts. Her gaze flickered to the camera and her other companion. She clearly didn't know what to do._

_Dean grew increasingly freaked, pointing at something out of sight of the camera. “Who are you? We won't tell anyone!”_

_Inhuman people wearing military gear strode into the basement. Their eyes were reddened, skin pale and dark lines marring the flesh wherever it was exposed. They were overly tall, limbs gangly and stretched. One of them had a machete which he swung at the camera, causing it to fall and a spray of blood to cross its lens. The camera smashed into the floor, static and lines dancing in random spots._

“ _You. Pick up the camera. Make him keep filming.”_

_Infected men with guns backed the journalist and sound guy up as the camera lifted. It moved in close to the two terrified people until it changed hands and seemed to be handed off to Dean. As soon as his shaking grip leveled the camera to a decent height, a man was revealed. Tough to get a good look with the damage the camera took in the fall, permanent lines and static spots worsening the already dim picture._

_From what could be seen, he was a man with an athletic build, more lean than bulk, but impressive upper body build nevertheless. A baseball cap adorned his head, dark sunglasses, and his jacket had the collar upturned, partially blocking the lower part of his face. He put his back to the camera to examine the man strung up on the wall, making identification impossible. These people wouldn't know who he was anyway, and they were seriously regretting their decision to venture to this place._

“ _Please don't hurt us, man. Okay? Please.”_

_The man's pleas went unheard. This apparent person in charge, by all appearances uninfected unlike his friends, walked quickly away from the prisoner on the wall. Marie showed on the camera as she was dragged from her co-worker to stand by the guy barely clinging to life. She seemed to find it hard to look directly at the sorry excuse for a living soul._

“ _I'm giving you a choice. I rape the poor innocent civilian whose curiosity put her in this very bad place.” He paused for emphasis. “Or, I have my way with you, Chris.”_

“ _No... No...”_

“ _Oh?”_

_The man's words came slow, it being difficult to speak. He couldn't manage to raise his chin up this time. Staring at the ground, he forced his abused vocal chords to say what he needed._

“ _Not her. No...”_

_Something akin to disappointment appeared on the boss or leader or whoever's face. “Hm. Well, you're lucky I like you so much.” He shifted toward the camera. “Was my tip everything you hoped for?”_

_She gasped in terror at the news this person was the reason they were in this situation. He laughed with glee right before he slit her throat with a combat knife drawn from his belt. Waited a second and dropped her like she was less than nothing to hold on to. Shifting again, the chains dropped holding the man up and he hit the floor, flopping boneless._

_He turned the tortured man to watch her bleed out, choking on her blood as she died. Dean was sobbing, the camera never once held steady after witnessing the people he knew murdered. The picture jerked for a moment but inevitably returned to the horrific sight on the floor._

“ _You're the perfect man to make the perfect soldier,” the cruel man mused. “I wonder when you will give in to me, come to be a willing participant in my life's work. Soon enough we will be in the action stage of the project, all thanks to the efforts of Mr. Greene using Dr. Sheppard as I intended. Your blood is the key now. It would be a lot simpler if you would participate, yes?”_

“ _Never.”_

_It was the strongest he'd spoken thus far._

_The man said his words wicked. A cause for dread to those who were listening._

“ _Never is a long time to let me keep doing this to you, Chris. Having these 'moments' with my favorite.” He knelt and placed a hand on the man's spine, pressing him into the floor. “That's okay. I don't mind you unwilling.”_

_A wail of pure despair released as hands touched his buttocks and forced his legs wider. The man undid his belt and pants, stuck dry fingers between the cheeks. His victim wailed, sounding more of agony as the limp body was penetrated by the thing between the assailant's legs. A grunt from the rapist and then he groaned with pleasure._

“ _Heh, heh, heh.”_

_Abrupt hesitation. He lifted himself off the naked man a bit, craning his neck to the direction of the camera and the people unseen who must be on either side by how his gaze swept along. Putting a hand to grasp the back of the man's neck, his lips curled into phantom pleasantness._

“ _Kill the spare.”_

_Multiple gunshots rang out, the camera jerking and jolting spastic. Dean never made a sound, too torn apart from the number of bullets perhaps. What might have been the slapping of skin on skin and what was most certainly a choked cry were the last sounds recorded. The camera smashed to the ground and everything cut to black afterward._

Uncomfortable quiet pervaded the guardhouse. No one seemed eager to breach the heavy atmosphere. Harper or Nivans might, if they weren't busy encouraging the silence for any of them to divulge something they hadn't yet when it broke. Eva just really hoped no one asked her how she was feeling or if she was okay. Claire and the others wouldn't care to be asked such a stupid thing either.

“So...” Renny began. “Chris was on the ship?”

Eva thought maybe she was awful not to cry. She might even laugh. Keith Rennigan could be counted on to make the entire room soften. Her gaze flickered to her father, who stepped back to lean against the wall, adjusting his sunglasses on the unreadable mask that was his face. Movement from somebody at last.

“The ship? Hello?”


	4. First Down

_Interstate 80 East toward Midway, Utah_

Gazing out the window at the mountains, cheek resting on his fist, he urged the driver to go faster in his head. They assigned a team of field agents for him to collaborate alongside. Leon was coming from Santa Clara where the DSO had a minor installation. The organization gathered a few agents brought in from various nearby stationed locales to the Nevada office. Although NYC was attacked, this side of the country was showing significant activity.

An Agent Mercer out of Salt Lake City believed he identified the area a journalist, sound technician, and camera operator went prior to their disappearance. The crew of three hadn't informed their employer of receiving or following a lead. They used a personal vehicle and their cell phones couldn't be tracked once they were thought missing. Turns out, the camera operator, a Daniel Harris, mentioned the spur of the moment trip to an ex-girlfriend. She lived in Tennessee for her job and hadn't known her ex had gone missing. After their disappearances ascended from local to national news, she called the tip line the DSO had been monitoring these past days of chaos. The call came in months ago. It was nothing short of a miracle Agent Mercer noticed one of many calls about an increase in disappearances.

“We'll be arriving in ten,” Agent Kang seated in the front passenger seat announced to him and the other two in the back. “Remember, if any of them survived, we've got a white male, mid-thirties, light blond hair, blue eyes. A black male, late twenties, black hair, brown eyes. And a white female, mid-thirties, brown hair, brown eyes. Probability of their survival is low, probability of danger for us is medium. The place could be abandoned, but if it's not... You get the idea.”

Leon went back to peering out the window after the guy faced frontward. His fiancee wasn't thrilled when checking in with Hunnigan caused his assignment elsewhere. He was just relieved he'd been let in on the investigation in an official capacity. If his superiors knew he texted the destination to Krauser's burner phone to lend Claire details on the current mission, it wouldn't be great for his career. Good thing he didn't care.

He wanted to find Chris. Should they encounter the unidentified terrorist, orders were to capture or kill. Leon wasn't sure why, but Agent Harper and Captain Nivans were playing it close to the vest concerning the knowledge BSAA famed Chris Redfield was the person responsible for New York's destruction. He wasn't complaining. It was the same predicament for him no matter what others knew. He'd try to help Chris. Others wouldn't share his benevolent intention.

This unit was equipped with special ammunition. The terrorist was believed infected and the bullets were built for those special types out there in the world. Dr. Mya Sheppard created the fluid the metal encased. She was a wanted terrorist but her invention was effective to slow people or animals carrying viruses which gave them unnatural abilities.

Sheppard had her hands in everybody's business in the illegal affairs of biological warfare. Known involvement with Umbrella, Greene, and also Chris's captor on that video. She was a piece of work. Simmons dirty and likely never a legit government official in the first place was troubling on top of that. Now he was thinking the former director's arrangement for special weaponized liquid to anti-terrorist organizations in recent times wasn't coincidence.

“What the hell is this?”

“Damn. Somebody screwed the pooch.”

Leon perked up, leaning forward in his seat to see what Mercer and Kang were talking about. He slumped into his seat when he saw what they were referring to. Two government issued SUVs, courtesy of Nivans and Harper for the abandoned Team Red's use as an obvious tactic to monitor their whereabouts, looked to have recently arrived. The headlights and engines were on, shutting off as the jeep carrying them pulled over to park on the grass. He hopped out in a hurry, glancing furtively to the occupants of the other vehicles getting out like they belonged.

There were a lot of open spaces between houses around here and the house they'd come to was no different. It was the sole property supposedly condemned in the area, instantly striking suspicion. Leon figured the others must have reached the same conclusion. Jake, Eva, Claire, Sherry, Billy, Rebecca, Renny..and Krauser and Wesker. That was everybody.

He pretended not to know them and thankfully they were wise to conceal recognition. Kang went to confront their presence with two of the agents he'd forgotten the names of. He eavesdropped long enough to hear Kang tell them if they got themselves killed that was on them. Things accelerated from there.

The interior of the house by all appearances was harmless and normal. It was fully furnished and clearly inhabited, which wasn't right for a condemned building. Agents Sans and Mercer branched off to investigate upstairs. On the first floor, Billy found the passageway to the basement, immense and not to code. Their pace quickened finding the decrepit room where the reporters met their end and Chris endured torment. He side-eyed his fiancee and Eva in turn.

Eva looked to be fighting not to collapse in on herself. Claire was careful to keep a brave face. He wasn't confident in his abilities to identify emotions or conditions.

There was a too brightly lit hallway, built wide and long, two directions. Agents Kang and Burr wanted to search left and Leon took the lead journeying to the right. Krauser stepped up to move with him. Their group stuck together. Leon couldn't say if the other agents bought his claim he was keeping an eye on the civilians who weren't supposed to be part of the operation.

He halted, studying the solid doors appearing when they rounded the corner. “Claire, why don't you and a few others secure our exit. I don't want this to go bad. Let's play it safe.”

“No way that's gonna happen, Leon.”

It wasn't a surprise Claire refused. He was grateful Rebecca and Billy relented, agreeing they'd do the task and hold the present ground. Rennigan, or Renny, volunteered to remain in the bright hall as well.

He fought the sigh. “Alright, Claire, the rest of us stay together.”

They passed through the heavy metal doors of the blinding white hall, Leon's continued insistence to be in the lead position maintained. Krauser was side by side with him as usual during this exploration of the extensive underground facility. It felt like ages had gone since the last time he partnered with Jack Krauser. He missed it to an extent, however the memories of the knife-wielding guy coming at him almost fifteen years ago were a little fresher than the good times.

The room was wide and rows of computers made up the perimeter. It was notably warmer in here, but the lighting was less harsh, which he appreciated. A large shelving unit filled with books and files blocked the rest of the room from sight. Leon moved warily around it, not having encountered a threat or living person since stepping foot in the house. He doubted their luck would hold and what he saw left him uncertain if he was right or wrong.

Stasis tubes, a line of four. Two were empty, one held clear fluid, and one next to an empty and full one held fluid and a human. Tubes and wires connected to the mostly nude body floating inside, rather pale skin adorned with black compression shorts creating a stark contrast. A black mask covered his nose and mouth and still Leon recognized the slumbering man.

“Chris!”

He looked at Claire standing exasperated beside him. Eva ran ahead to stand in front of the tube. Attempting to set aside personal feelings, he studied Chris from head to toe. He'd lost muscle in the arms but retained plenty of musculature to predict he was a force in combat. Leon knew firsthand how deadly efficient he was in a fight nowadays. Maybe this was lucky getting him unconscious. If they could extract and keep him under, they could take him somewhere safe for help. The problem was keeping him down long enough to do that.

Eva placed her hand on the glass surface, observing his face. The agent bumped Claire with his elbow to remind he was there for her and wandered closer. Sherry and Jake were hanging out by the shelves, unprepared to see Chris treated like an experiment. He didn't ask for any of this. Krauser began strolling along the computers in sleep mode, pondering what secrets might be worth searching for he'd guess. Averting his gaze from the difficult sight, he looked at Wesker, who'd gone still.

There was a set of double doors to their right which appeared like they'd swing open and a metal door partially obscured by the four tubes. Leon only noticed the door when he heard it opening. A man walked through dressed head to toe in dark grays. Head to toe. A ski mask and goggles hid the head portion of the man's notable athletic build, defined muscle on him. It was far too warm for that kind of attire.

He paid them no mind and approached the back of Chris's tube, pressing a few buttons. Crap.

Eva gasped and Leon's attention darted to the container draining rapidly. That didn't seem to be the reason for the response, but because the sleeping man's eyes were open. The fluid was still waist high when he began tearing off the strings connecting him to the spot. Wesker moved fast to grab his daughter and pull her to a safer range.

He apparently cared nothing for his well-being, because he raised his head more and punched the glass. A spiderweb of cracks appeared, beginning to spread. He punched the same spot and the glass burst. Remaining fluid poured onto the floor while he ripped free from the tube and jumped down to the floor. The mask remained, torn connecting tubes hanging uselessly. Chris looked at him and Claire, nearest to where he was standing, tugging the mask off and tossing it to the floor.

“Legend.”

Chris responded like it was his name, twisting to listen to the masked man pointing a gloved finger at him. The double doors Leon saw drew his eye as a door pushed inward and a woman in a red silk shirt and black leather pants and boots came through. She had a pistol in one gloved hand and someone's forearm grasped in her other. Ada was leading Melody, taking her someplace.

“Chris!” Eva tried without success, eyes wide and flitting between him and the living bioweapon she befriended in the past.

Leon could tell Claire was barely restraining herself from doing the same pointless thing. He wouldn't be reached so easily. Maybe with enough words or enough time or a special drug or a knock on the head. But not a simple recitation of the man's given name.

“You aren't supposed to be awake,” the man completely covered said. His voice was a deep baritone while his manner of speech was light and playful.

He put his hand on his gun, sensing this was going to go bad. Risking a look behind, Sherry and Jake were approaching the center of the room where Krauser was lingering to their right. The woman gripped her baton, prepared to trigger the electricity in spite of her tense expression. She was tough and would handle herself okay. Jake..would be fine too.

“No matter.” He tilted his head in Chris's direction. “Kill her.”

Melody pushed Ada away and stood apart, eyes glowing bright blue. “Go!” She sought where Eva was standing. “Get out of the room!”

It happened fast. Chris charged and rammed into her middle, knocking the breath from her lungs before she unleashed her voice attack. They plowed through the doors and disappeared on the other side. Leon considered pursuing, considered attacking the man who gave the order. He settled for putting his gun on him while Eva ran foolishly toward the doors. Her father allowed because he accompanied her and they went after the two infected used as weapons.

“Stop him. Tell him to stand down. Is this that control chemical? You're controlling his body?”

He couldn't actually decipher whether he was smiling or not, but it sounded like it in his speech.

“Tonight he is precisely how I prefer. Docile, steered. He misbehaved and ran. We brought him home like always though.” He sighed loud. “We'll have to abandon this home, thanks to you trespassers.”

Violent noises reached them. Whatever room was beyond the door was getting trashed. Chris must have been thrown, crashing against the doors which swung to smash the walls on either side. He rolled and smoothly rose to his feet. Leon blinked. The man had put on a loose-fitting black tank top, thigh holsters with guns on both legs, a nylon belt carrying additional ammunition and several knives, and he had a sword in hand. How'd he manage that?

Wesker came stalking through the leftmost door, looking peeved. For Chris to have time enough to equip himself with plenty of items, the fighting must have gone terribly. It seemed dark in there. Perhaps that was why. _Take off the damn sunglasses, “superior being”._

Jake and Sherry were on the move but then he caught sight of Eva standing in the doorway. Melody appeared with a bloody face, cautiously entering the room behind Wesker, seeming to want an opening. He didn't see Ada and wondered if she bailed. She'd always been a solo act.

Wesker bent an elbow, grumbling while he rolled it loose. He had a cut on his arm. Owed to a sword?

“Don't get all samurai on me now, Chris,” he muttered, gun still aimed at the guy controlling him somehow.

“Chris! Please! It's your sister!”

Chris rushed Wesker to bat him out of the way and rotated about, slicing at Melody. She made it out of the path of the blade and he flipped the sword to handle it differently. Foot jabbing into her ankle, she wrenched herself to turn away, presumably to flee. Leon saw what would happen but was too far to do anything. Fingers gripped her shoulder and the sword plunged in her back, through her chest. He twisted the blade, destroying her vital insides. For good measure, he lopped off her head.

“No!”

He gaped, horrified. Glaring at the guy doing this to a good man, he yelled for him to stop Chris, who swung his sword in swift fashion to rid the blood from the blade, standing there as if nothing happened. Until he scanned the room's occupants and held up a single finger, indicating one. One dead. Leon couldn't see the covered eyes but the man shifted to stand face to face, raising his arms slowly to shrug big how little he cared for the command. Who was this guy?

“If she can't obey orders, then what good is she?”

Eva was staring at the decapitated head which rolled to a corner of the room a few yards distance from her. She teared up, looking at Chris. The young woman looked so lost. His anger was rising and he didn't know what was the best thing to do. Arrest the guy and make him talk, make him fix his friend.

Where were the other agents? Billy and them? They couldn't hear this?

“As you like it, Legend. Go on,” he encouraged. “Kill the viral carriers you hate so much. It's not a command. Your choice.”

The faintest smirk came upon Chris's face. Oh crap.

He attacked Krauser. In the time everything else happened, Krauser had gotten nearest to the controlled anti-terrorism fighter. He was looking for a fight and therefore ready when the assault suddenly began on him. The guy had guts, he'd give him that. He went knife to sword against Chris.

They danced a dangerous minute. The sword wielder flipped and jammed the hilt of the sword into Krauser's throat when he couldn't land a hit with the sharp end. He might have crushed his trachea, suffocating the superhuman. Leon eyed the masked man to ensure he hadn't budged, hesitating to join the battle when there were others who could fight while he held him here.

The moment Krauser fell, he rounded on Wesker, skipping by Eva entirely. Fists and legs flew. They bodily threw each other across the room, into walls. Wesker yanked the sword out of Chris's grasp and slammed a flat hand to his chest, discarding the blade. The power behind the attack led him to smash in an empty stasis tube. It caused him to rise slower than before.

Sherry hurried forward and hit Chris with her electric rod. It struck him in the shoulder, radiating electricity throughout his body. He'd been in the process of standing and buckled under the strain to continue rising despite her. Jake readied to do damage, raising his fists.

Leon assumed the plan was to slow him down or knock him out. He glanced toward Claire, toward Eva. Why didn't they come in with an actual plan? Was Chris the planner for the former team? He couldn't talk shit. He usually ended up winging plans on his own missions.

“Chris!” Eva tried to aid her father, who warned her to stay back. “Chris! It's me! Eva! Chris!”

He spared a momentary glance to the woman screaming her desperation. “Tainted.” He swiveled to examine Jake. “Your life is forfeit.”

“Think I can't handle ya,” Jake said with a laugh. “Come at me!”

Leon would like to say the younger of the two put up a fair fight. Sherry assisted by stabbing at Chris with the baton and he spun and caught it. Electricity burned his hand, shock extending through his arm and to the rest of him. He was grinning.

Jake delivered an impressive round-house kick which sent him into the jagged shards. The glass cut into his side and carved deeper when he rolled to gain his footing. It was as if he couldn't notice the pain or damage. Blood leaked out and he reacted the same as ever, sticking a knife in Jake's leg. While he staggered off to come to terms with that agony, Sherry attacked and a gun was drawn and fired to force her retreat.

“Wolf! Wolf!”

The guy he wished to take into custody adjusted his stance to something resembling wary, remarking, “He's not mine anymore.”

Leon spared the ski mask man a weighted stare and decided it was safe. He focused on Renny panicking and diving to the other side of the shelves. What could only be described as a very large wolf bounded into the room.

Black fur, bright green eyes. Correction: Glowing green eyes and they were tracking its prey. Acting like a guard dog or did they tick it off going near his buddy? Leon remembered this oversized mongrel from the ship and it could get a whole lot bigger. On its hind legs a brief moment, the wolf howled and leaped for Renny. His problem for now.

Bullets closer to his head than he was comfortable hammered the computer. Chris holstered his guns, wearing satisfaction they weren't required any longer. Jake didn't seem up for running with his leg wound and Sherry opted to play defense as a result. He watched Krauser go to help the pilot. Wesker shot two bullets into an arm and a third to a leg to prove this version of Chris overconfident.

Maybe not. Chris was..sheesh. Dark veins were visible, creeping upward from his chest, along his neck, reaching part of his face. Leon would swear his eyes were a darker green. He moved faster than before and appeared to hit harder than before. Wesker jutted out an elbow to keep his assailant at bay when a knife stabbed into his neck. The superhuman backpedaled, watching Chris suck at the blood on his weapon. Red eyes flashed and Chris threw the knife at an approaching Claire, who ducked. He went for Wesker, who took a blow beneath the chin and knocked into Eva, felling them to the floor.

“Chris! It's Claire! It's your sister!”

She got in his way and he grabbed her, raising her up by the throat. He refused to stand by anymore. Leon forgot the man they needed to arrest and raced to reach them. She was hurting!

“Claire!”

His attempt to assist her ended abruptly when he was sent reeling with a solid punch to his cheek. He staggered to find his balance and come back around. The pressure had increased on her throat and she choked and clawed blindly at his arm. He was relieved when Eva moved to intercede but it served as annoyance and not a lot else.

It did provide sufficient distraction. Chris tossed Claire away and Leon followed her collapse, rushing to check on her gasping, coughing form. He turned to monitor her savior.

“Chris! Please! It's Eva Jane. You know me! Please remember.”

The out of his mind man responded to her pleas by socking her across the jaw, hard. She fell forward onto the floor, groaning and shifting in pain. Leon was surprised she was conscious yet. He raised from his crouch, lifting the gun. Could he shoot?

His eye caught the splayed out hand seeking purchase on the ground. Eva trying to push upright as a bare foot came down with all mustered force possible..in a superhuman. He had to be like them now. He'd delivered the brutal strike with true sadism, enjoyment playing in his expression. He was messed up and taking him alive was becoming complicated.

Even having the thought, shock overruled his system as Wesker appeared behind Chris using his speed. His fist punched a hole through him, decimating his heart. Eva screamed when her hand shattered, but she was screaming now for a whole new reason.

Claire struggled to sit up, sobbing. Leon helped her, shrugging off his shock for the sake of the mission and his partners. Chris collapsed, blood spreading outward under his body. Dead just like that. Shit.

He realized the masked guy was missing. Bastard escaped. Sherry offered to support Jake's weight and he refused.

Jake moved closer, limping and clutching at the hilt of the knife in his thigh. “Eva, I'm sorry.”

“What the fuck, Wesker?” Leon growled, embracing his budding rage.

This was not saving him. This was going to traumatize Claire for life. And Eva, and... This was fucked.

He stared, becoming still. Leon tightened his grasp on Claire unintentionally, prompting her to shove him away with a puzzled protest. He darted his gaze to her a second and returned to the impossible scene before his eyes.

The thing masquerading as Redfield stirred, picking himself up. He looked ready to engage in combat. The government agent surveyed the gaping hole where organs were reforming. Darkened veins virtually black. Green irises glowed.

There was a feral howl. Leon couldn't take his eyes away from the pulsing heart exposed for a few seconds after growing back. He could see red blood pumping through the arteries connecting. His lungs matured to adult size and then layers of muscle and skin hid the vital area. It was a genuine marvel to behold. Disgusting, but marvelous.

Chris targeted Wesker. Renny made it over to join the fight in spite of his overt confusion. The wolf tore through the room in search of a hunting Krauser, crouched on top of the high shelf with a knife held ready. He heard automatic gunfire outside the room and hoped Rebecca and Billy were doing all right. Leon thought he heard a shotgun blast and made a decision.

Running to Sherry and Jake, he observed Wesker with Eva. Okay. Distraction. Or... Claire made a movement in the direction of the gunfire and Chris didn't approve. He went for her and Leon turned his gun on Chris.

He received bullets firing at him in return for his trouble and ran for the opposite end of the room. Chris pursued, shooting until the clips emptied. He kept on moving while reloading. Great.

“Can't we talk about this?”

Ineffective, naturally, so he kicked a gun out of his hand. His enemy tried to punch him and he dodged, then blocked the follow up kick. Leon started running again and jolted to an abrupt stop. He located a knife sticking through his jacket, pinning him to the wall. His eyes drifted to Melody's headless corpse near his foot, tugging more urgently on the knife when he spotted Chris freeze and aim.

Leon began breathing hard, one knee resting on the floor. He managed to dodge the bullet by a fraction. He seemed to have earned luck because Chris appeared bored of him, seeking a new target in Wesker.

“You..mine.”

The man had gotten his daughter on her feet and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “And her?”

What? What was Wesker doing? Making his daughter a target? Possibly testing his memory?

“You.”

“Don't move! Surrender your weapons!”

He groaned. Poor timing. Glowing eyes and a creepily vein-coated complexion roved to the pair of agents who arrived to save the day, or get killed. Shit.

The eyes landed on his pet. “Nova.”

Kang and Burr lifted their assault rifles. The wolf tackled Kang and Chris shot Burr through the forehead the instant he let out a burst of bullets to kill him. Krauser knifed the wolf in the side. It released a whine and Chris released a pained scream.

Gazing longingly at Wesker, Chris switched frame of mind when he sped toward the wolf. He succeeded in knocking Krauser backward and the wolf sprang upright. Infected man and beast made a swift exit out the doors their group used to enter. Leon thought Chris had a look of hunger on his face, like he wanted to eat him. What the fuck?

Jake limped over to hover near his left. “I could've taken him.”

Claire and Renny looked at him in comical disbelief.

He forced a laugh and snarked, “Sure. You'll show him next time.”

Ada meandered into the room via the same door the danger left, letting out a burdened sigh. She smiled Leon's way and shook her head at the rest of them collecting themselves. All these trained, experienced folks and they'd struggled to survive instead of making a damn bit of difference. The spy folded her arms across her chest, loosely holding her gun.

“That must be the legend I've been hearing about.”


	5. His Dark Side

_Description of **C-Virus** : R-Virus Variant combined with modified T-Virus (not dissimilar to the T-Abyss)._

_Subject behavior becomes agitated-violent/homicidal. Appearance alters with red-irritated eyes, dark veins (blood turning black), elongated limbs/torsos (in many cases). Other changes include increased strength and agility, ability to withstand much injury before succumbing to wounds, significant urge to ingest ******* *******. _

_Strain 1: Virus reduces subject to mindless killing machine and significantly decreases intelligence. Displays a tendency to target easier prey (living or dead animals, deceased humans), over attacking a healthy human (though they will and do)._

_Strain 2: Excess mutation occurs after 24-48 hours of exposure. Subject's skin darkens **** **** ******* , limbs become *********** ********* , hands/feet become clawed-the easier to dismember victims in order to ******* ***** ******* , head enlarges, ****** ****** bigger-still bloodshot, teeth sharpen-likening to shark-like quality. _

_**R-Virus** : Aging ceases. Death results in immortality following resurrection. Noted physical characteristic is green color in eyes. Human adaptation is exceedingly rare. Stabilization occurred in only two known subjects. _

_**R-Virus Variant (** ********* **)** : Regenerative abilities possessed requiring a period of hours or days to work depending on the degree of injury. Aging slows to the extent physical changes will be imperceptible at present. Theoretically, lifespan may extend **** ***** ****** of a normal human. Permanent death ***** ** ***********. One known successful subject. _

_Test Subject CR-17_

_**Enhanced P30 Variant** : Control chemical increases agility, strength, and speed. Administering required every **** ** ** *******. Side effects include extreme memory loss, although certain aspects of personality appear to remain. It is questionable whether memory loss resulted from high level of chemical exposure or from severe physical and psychological torture subject experienced for a period of five years. Subject has retained aversion to bio-weapons and those who use them. When not under the control element, subject will seek out and destroy perceived threats. This includes myself and my people. Prolonged exposure in high doses over the period of a year, in addition to previously existing R-Virus Variant, appears to have enhanced regenerative abilities. Test subject can heal in seconds even the most dire injuries. _

_Additional Memo: Dark green eyes glow at times of heightened power use. Blood darkens and body pumps through P30 at an accelerated rate from heart to brain. Like those infected with the C-Virus, a developed taste for ********** ***** ********. Curiously, consumption of large quantities **** ***** ****** ***** ***** ** ** **** ****** ******* ** **************** ** ****** **********. _

_In theory, this magnificent healing factor would ******* ** **** ***** ** ******** *** ******* ****** *** ******** ***** *** *** **********. R-Virus Variant condition ******* ******** , albeit, one can assume consuming viral ******* ***** ***** ***** ************* ******* ** **********. Interesting that I would not have made the discovery **** ******* blood improving strength and health of subject, had sleep deprivation and prolonged starvation not driven the virus within to seek out another source of energy. _

_Variation of R-Virus (CR-17) modified using G-Virus strain has successfully stabilized my own *********. One does wonder what would result if **** ****** *** ********** introduced to a modified sample of CR-17 virus. _

_Nova is a wild mammal test subject named by Subject CR-17. This C-Virus creature can transform into a giant beast after large consumption of blood. Grows wings for optimal transmission to environment._

“I don't have time for this.”

Ada noted the irritated look Leon sent her way for the comment. She understood the information was new to them, but it was old news for her. She delivered it and wanted to get the rest of what she had out. Their emotions were an inconvenience.

“What are you doing here, Ada?” the agent demanded.

Her eyes lingered on an agent of Korean descent missing a throat. It was reminiscent of a zombie tearing out a throat for eating. She could do with never seeing a sight such as that again.

Leon had no need of hearing her presence was from guilt for prior bad acts. They were using Melody to function as a primary recovery method of their asset. She figured she would also give Chris the best chance at freedom by freeing the poor bioweapon. Melody's death wasn't the desired outcome, but it did result in her other motive being accomplished. If there was anything of Chris left, he now had a chance to escape permanently.

The government agent pushed the paper into Eva's hands since she was reading it repeatedly with eager eyes. He checked his weapon while eyeing her, keeping judgment off his face at least. Billy Coen and Rebecca Chambers were grateful for her assistance above ground against armed guards. Maybe he could hear that and stop looking at her like she might need watching, whether out of testosterone protectiveness or distrust.

The document wasn't the most legible she ever retrieved. Once white paper was soiled and mishandled, plenty of sentences partially faded and scratched out from poor preservation. All the important pieces were there. They could do something with the intelligence where she would not. Ada didn't involve herself in a job lacking self-interest.

“I'm on a schedule,” she lied. “What can I say to satisfy your curiosity?”

Eva started hacking, straining to get Claire to hold onto the document while powerful coughs racked her small form. The young woman was careful to conceal the tissue in her jacket pocket folded over, but Ada saw the specks of blood. Frowning, she saw Wesker had seen too. Clearly experiencing shock and breathing heavy before from exertion and injury, Ada could expect vomit, not that. She refused to ponder the cause.

“It was such a long drive and now my hand is crap. This sucks.”

She was unconvincing to everyone. Failure to mention Chris was odd and she should know it. Must not be thinking straight for a reason. Hm. Well, on to what else she had to share.

“I've learned the person responsible for Redfield's captivity is Archer. Don't know if that's a man or woman. But this person is looking to be invincible, a god among men. Sounds like the cautious sort though, unwilling to risk their health until the result is certain. Redfield was selected for his unique virus catering to this sort of experimentation and severe torture was used to break him, to turn him into what he hates.”

Claire glowered at the floor. “They made him like them, perpetrating bioterrorism.” She examined Eva's mangled hand. “Try not to move that much.”

“Archer?” Sherry considered. “I don't think I've heard of somebody with that name. Have any of you?”

“No,” Jake replied immediate. Her gaze lingered on him even while she was aware the others either shrugged or shook their heads in the negative.

Wesker wouldn't remove his gaze from the back of Eva's head. “I know an individual who might know the name.”

“Great.” She scanned the man who by all appearances seemed out of place. He styled “slick”. Hair tidy, scruff maintained on his face, just enough muscle to be admirable, and a deep blue track suit with maroon lines. She'd seen him in action when he had to be. Pretty smooth for a pilot. “Rennigan, is it?”

“Renny.”

“Are you playing catch up or can you tell me what your team knows?”

He scowled. “I don't know no Archer, but Greene's work, trying to take Umbrella some years back. That crazy scientist Sheppard putting her brain to use for hire seems to me. Yeah, I know stuff.”

Like candy. Easy. “Seems like it might be a good idea to find her, yes?”

Sherry came closer, studying her in an unimpressed, impatient manner. “Someone capable of serious virus work for weaponizing has been busy these past years. T-Virus? R-Virus? The C-Virus was accidentally created when Greene was working with the R-Virus Variant Chris had and combined it with another virus. Simmons dirty... He must have sold the G-Virus I have or been using it for something himself. I had no idea about him...”

“Archer hired me to dismantle Darius Greene's operations seven years ago. A woman guided me to cross paths with Greene and I killed him. In hindsight, I may have been played.”

“May have?” Krauser grunted. “Alex Wesker was searching for the key to immortality under Spencer's orders in 2006. Got dead, revived and crazy. She failed but it was inevitable others wouldn't stop working toward the same goal. One of 'em took Chris. You know all about that, eh, Claire?”

The woman folded her arms. “A time I was happy Chris wasn't around to worry about me. Moira and I kidnapped by that freak, ugh. Barry was really broken up he couldn't save that little girl...”

“You know, it never sat right with me you were the one guy to get superpowered and the others in the project didn't. What's with that?”

Rennigan wasn't listened to, Eva's distress winning out over useful talk.

“If we could just get him to remember us, I know we can get him back.”

“Yeah, I know, Eva...” Claire glanced at Leon. “Do you think we should wrap the hand in something? Or make a sling?”

“I'm fine,” the younger woman insisted, returning to her previous train of thought. “Chris is in there. I know it!”

Oh wonderful. The despair appeared contagious. Chris's sister slumped her shoulders, holstering her gun. “He's alive but so different. I shouldn't have given up on the possibility he was alive. It's my fault because I gave up.”

“I'm the one who told the police to declare him dead. There were no leads, no clues to follow. Archer left nothing behind. This is the person who took him, I can feel it. Archer is responsible for everything. Six years he suffered for my choice.”

Leon was solemn, seeming to bear a look of disillusion at what became of Chris. “How long can we keep doing this?”

The ones who fought bioterrorism. A depressingly eternal battle for the foreseeable future. She didn't bother with that kind of work as it did no good. People died from those attacks and would continue to die from them. Time to go, she thought.

“Ada!”

Her exit into the hall wasn't appreciated. She strolled to the opposite wall and rotated around to lean against it. The eight members of a newly assembled team joined her in the hallway. Wesker ignored her and started in the right direction. She watched, glancing to the left where she had come from. Since she hadn't encountered any of them until that cryotank room, it could be accurate to guess they arrived from the opposite direction.

“Whoa, whoa. This was a dead end, wasn't it?” Rennigan queried.

Leon drew his weapon. “Definitely.”

“Did you open something up when you came down here?” Claire asked Ada, noting marks where the wall had slid open in both directions to reveal a lengthy hall. She halted short of venturing beyond the tracks lining the floor there. “'Cause this is new.”

Wanting to move this along so she could slip away at the first possible opportunity, she took the lead. “I used this way to get here. It's a way out. Let's go.”

Eva was leaning on the door she'd come out, breathing measured. “Think Chris is still here?”

Ada strode quickly forward, motion lights switching on as she went. “Not sure why he left. Legend could kill all of us.”

“Don't call him that!” ordered Claire.

“Where's Rebecca? Billy?” Jake brought up.

She kept moving and knew they were following by the gathering volume of steps behind her. No one knew where the two had gotten to so she shared they were upstairs and fine the last time she saw them. There was alarm at learning C-Virus infected armed with guns had been present to attack the two left in the hall. She listened to stomping steps. Their alarm was misplaced.

Ada ran forward and spun around in time to witness a large fist smash through the wall. A tall man stooped to step through and stood upright to look left and right. She had to admire that leather coat again. Twenty years since she saw a Tyrant Model 103 in such tight quarters. Raccoon City revisited. Her unwanted fate.

“Well, you're a fossil.”

Rennigan gasped at the sight of the big guy but he stayed put, asking perplexed, “Why is that thing wearing a hat?” He laughed. “It ain't exactly inconspicuous.”

“Oh no,” uttered Claire. “I remember this guy.”

Leon groaned. “Yup. Great.”

“Something like that hanging around here seems superfluous,” Ada remarked. “Alright, fine. Someone want to take care of him quick?”

Pulling out her hookshot, she scanned the ceiling and fired. Triggering the device, the line pulled her forward and she used the momentum at the creature to kick it in the face. Her whole body propelled to add weight to the attack allowed a stunning blow. Ada flipped down and landed gracefully on a knee. Rising, she was pleased to see Wesker hold it to the ground while Krauser held two knives to its neck. With his strength, he decapitated the Tyrant model.

“Wow,” Claire breathed. “That _was_ fast.”

Leon seemed reluctant to be impressed, yet their combo attack garnered a flashed thumbs up. “Good job.”

Jake chuckled, saying in a low voice, “You ain't kidding.”

“Over here! There are others!”

Ada looked straight ahead, observing the heavily equipped soldiers gathering to pursue. “They're not playing around.”

She spared a glance to either side of her company and whirled about. “Run already,” she told them, masking the irritation as she began running.

How many of these sentries did Archer post here? A dozen above ground kept her occupied when she sought a speedy exit. A tough guy in a bad spot delayed her departure, and a doctor playing soldier. Now here she ended up, fleeing machine gun toting assholes with the sorry excuse of no longer being human.

“Kill them!”

Loud breathing and feet pounding the floor filled her ears. Wesker effortlessly outpacing the rest, had a very ungrateful daughter slung on one shouldert. Not her ideal evening.

A spray of bullets came close to hitting Sherry. “Who are they?!”

Happening to be only a couple strides ahead, Ada offered a response. “Security.”

The foreboding howl stalled her in her tracks. Wesker kept on with his daughter in tow and Krauser at his heel. Leon was on the mercenary's heel until he looked back to her and stopped. Jake passed by, Sherry and Claire slowed, seeing her motionless.

“Ada!”

She hit the ground with enough force to roll her at the wall where she hit it quite spectacularly. Leon's boot came down and she rolled into that instead. He folded over her to form a protective barrier and she would be furious if he took a bullet for her. Chris charged past them and moved to strike Sherry with his sword.

“When no direction is the right one, am I right?”

Shoving him off, he stood and offered his hand which she accepted to gain her footing. Claire was struggling against Chris's grip on her ponytail. Sherry treated him to the business end of her electric baton. She jumped in to help by shooting two bullets into their assailant's kneecap. He jolted, releasing the sibling he couldn't recognize, and she shot him through the hand reaching for her. Direct intervention was not her thing.

“Ada!” Claire cried.

Before she could get self-righteous, she dipped around Leon and grabbed the woman's arm, leading her onward. “Run!”

Chris surprised her when he changed target to the C-Virus infected pursuing them. She didn't linger to watch but noticed Leon did for a brief time. Sherry caught up, hurrying near their backs. They were still racing toward an infected wolf and who knew what else. Ada was even more confident she was out on this situation. She didn't care about not getting paid; she didn't need the money. A concern for the planet's destruction wasn't out of the question. And with Leon... She hated complicated. It was time to leave.

Renny bumped her shoulder in his quest to beat her to the ladder. She'd forgotten about him. Grasping the ladder while the women ascended, Ada waited for Leon who tried to be chivalrous and have her go first. She smiled politely at him.

“I get the privilege, hero. Go.”

She had prime viewing of the slaughter farther down the hall, the motion sensitive lighting was a disservice. Blood and viscera painted every surface. It was tempting to hurl the contents of her stomach when an arm was yanked from its socket by a man fueled with hatred. Chris was not okay.

Ada climbed the ladder, muttering, “Disturbing.”

As she found the hidden entrance to stealthily infiltrate earlier, she left through the false well in a much different fashion. Large groups tended to have that effect.

“Agent Kennedy!” a man called out, limping along.

“Mercer! Glad somebody made it.”

A phone was ringing. These people... Eva punched her father in the rib cage before answering her cell.

“Is everything alright, Natasha?” Clearing her throat since her speech emerged somewhat garbled, she spoke louder. “Donovan? Why are you calling me? Where is-?” Hesitation, the woman's face scrunching in concern. “What do you mean a bad man is coming? D?”

Eva lowered the cell phone, clenching it in her hand. Her broken one. Wesker snatched it away and grasped her wrist gently.

“Careful.”

Claire happily cried, “Rebecca! Billy!”

The two were leaving via the front door like it was just another day. Well then. Her attention returned to Eva, who was bordering on hysterical.

“We have to get home. My son called to tell me a bad man is coming, whatever he means. I don't know. I want to be with them.”

“Your daughter told me the same thing when I was in your house.”

Ada pondered. Revealing, but not her problem.

“They're not normal, are they?”

Wesker sounded accusing. Eva's voice trembled, sounding dismayed when she uttered, “I want them to be.”

The spy was working free overtime as it stood. She turned and walked away, heading for the trees where her transportation awaited. An explosion caused the ground to quake and she paused to keep her balance. Even before she peeked, she could feel the heat of the fire on her backside. The large house was ablaze, underground bombs causing the least amount of damage to what was surface level and higher.

She swallowed. No warning announcement to evacuate, no hint of what was to come. The others staring at the wreckage were likely having the same train of thought. A minute later making their exit and they're all dead.

Ada finally committed to leaving as she should have sooner, giving a farewell of her sort. She very much doubted the drugged psychopath had been inside and if he was, he'd be like a cockroach, coming back to give her grief. Enough.

“You're in over your head, Leon!”

A thing she learned in her years of solitary mercenary work had proven a simple conclusion. No matter how a person is born or raised, they can choose to be good or an asshole. Nobody's perfect and no one is worthless if they make an effort for genuine kindness. But of course, these days one fact seemed more true than ever. Everybody has a dark side.


	6. A Learned Truth

_Crossing the border from Utah to Colorado_

After the Mansion Incident, she never wanted to experience anything like it ever again. Sole survivor of Bravo team was difficult to deal with for quite some time. She thought it was unfair the better trained and experienced members died while she lived. Rebecca never thought of herself as tough nor skilled. The only other person she felt could understand her was Billy Coen. She'd believed she wouldn't see him again when they parted ways in 1998.

It didn't feel she ever knew what to do with her life. Intelligent and compassionate, she chose the field of medicine in a hospital setting. The new career was great. She got to help people and yet it wasn't right. People thought she should be happy for what she had. They didn't understand when she quit to return to dangerous work under Chris's suggestion. She'd seen the worst things happening to innocents. It felt like she had to be out there in order to make the difference in the world she desired.

That choice wasn't right either. Years fighting to save lives and protect people, and it ended losing teammates just as before. Six years back in the hospital and she thought she might never figure the correct path to take. Her single decision she didn't regret was being around Billy again.

Thanks to Chris, Billy was broken out of prison. It wasn't what the fugitive cared about though. He loved Chris because the man gave him purpose. They equally missed their ex-team leader from the day he vanished. It wasn't so much the work, since that was rife with tragedy and danger, but allowing them to fight together. She hadn't imagined a romance with Billy until it was happening. They loved him for bringing them that other person who they fit with.

Rebecca looked at Billy in front of her, seated behind the wheel of the car in motion. He was driving for Agent Mercer, who sat in the front passenger seat with his leg up on the dash. When armed infected soldiers showed up and drove her and Billy upstairs in the large house, they climbed the floors to put distance between their bullet-firing enemies. While the pair of them managed to hold their own and find cover in a dusty bedroom, Agent Sans was killed. The remaining DSO agent moved to the third floor, taking out infected as he went. He threw himself through a window and hit the ground rough, breaking his leg in two places. She did what she could for the leg and warned him about mobilizing it even a little until they could get the limb in a proper cast. Pain pills helped much more than her verbal expertise.

Eva resisted accepting medical attention until she was in the DSO loaned vehicle, away from her father's prying eyes. She still found it hard to believe Wesker had a kid, despite knowing for a long time now. Rebecca was just happy she willingly put the arm in a sling after carefully wrapping her fingers, hand, and wrist to keep it as immobile as possible. Her eyes were sunken, face pallid. She was in a bad state but when asked would divert focus to how many hours it would be in the car, complaining as if that was her biggest problem.

Leon's cell phone rang and he answered, leaning into the side of the backseat. “Kennedy.”

She would guess it was Wesker by the agitation in his voice when he asked, “Who gave you this number?”

A foot kicked her seat. “Don't give me that cryptic shit.”

Rebecca twisted around, fighting the restraint of the belt. Jake and Sherry were sharing the car with Wesker. She wondered what that was like. Silence maybe. Probably. From beside her, Eva cautiously turned toward Leon, keeping the broken hand steady. She fiddled with her own phone, slipping it in and out of her pant pocket.

“Fine.”

Leon grunted, disconnecting the call. He put the cell phone inside his jacket before reclining back. “He's arranged a meet with his contact two hours from here. Mercer, use the GPS to find a Kirk's Diner that distance.”

“You okay?”

He met her gaze briefly. “This is going to go bad. It's already gone bad.”

“Chris will be alright. He just has to remember who he is. It won't be so bad.”

Eva's tone sounded lifeless. Rebecca studied her staring directly ahead. She had to get how awful things were in regards to Chris. She also had to know they would do everything in their power to save him. He was..making it difficult, however, and people were getting hurt. The man behind the curtain was always worse too, which meant things weren't going to become easier anytime soon.

It didn't sound as dull when she muttered, “Wesker betraying the team then got in the way of anybody seeing what a threat that bitch is.”

“Dr. Sheppard?”

The sheer venom in her speech was uncomfortable.

“Yeah. All the things she's had her hand in, and now this Archer guy backing her? Or giving her the orders? If everybody hadn't been looking out for Wesker, maybe Chris wouldn't have disappeared like he did. Leena wouldn't be forced to betray him, be murdered herself... I blame Wesker.”

“I'm..not sure that's fair,” Rebecca said. “I'm not your dad's biggest fan, but it seems to me he's trying.”

“I want the last six years of my life back.”

“Eva,” Leon uttered curtly. “Keep it together. I'm sick of reaching a dead end constantly. Sick of losing people and feeling like anytime I gain an inch, I lose a mile. But keep it together.”

“We're going to save him.”

She smiled at the woman next to her, pretending she wasn't bothered by the cold expression staring into nothing. “We are.”

“That guy doesn't even sound human,” Mercer said, grimacing when a bump in the road jostled his leg. “His goddamn organs grew back after he was eviscerated by the terrorist freak? Sounds like a monster to me. Plus he's a terrorist. How do you save _that_?”

“Shut it, Mercer,” Billy snapped, peeling his eyes off the road a moment. “You find the diner?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, resuming his use of the GPS screen. “Hate the realist. Whatever. My friends are dead. You don't forget that, girl.”

“Stop talking,” insisted Rebecca. “She doesn't need to hear this.”

Eva wasn't looking at anybody. She stared at her disabled hand. The contact of Wesker's better be helpful. They needed a win. Rebecca stared out the window again, willing them to reach their destination faster than predicted.

She must have been tired. She didn't think she fell asleep but she snapped out of a daze that felt close to it. The car was slowing and Leon shifted forward, pushing on her seat. He was looking out the window, eyeing the building the three vehicles in their escort were pulling in front of to park. The diner attached to a gas station and appeared to be a typical eating establishment, a half dozen cars in the lot.

Unbuckling her belt, she opened the door and slid to the edge of the seat. Gravel lot, paved road to the left where they'd be heading on once they were finished here. She got out and shut the door behind her. Leon was already out, striding for the second car that pulled in. Krauser exited the driver's door while Claire and Renny piled out from the opposite side.

“I could go for a shake and some fries.”

Claire yawned, stretching her arms and legs. “Me too.”

“I'm buying,” Renny announced, jogging for the entrance.

Rebecca scanned the cars and decided one of two lacking a dirt coating must belong to their informant. Waving at Claire, she waited for Billy. A blonde woman possibly Rebecca's age pushed open the door to the diner. She was wearing a low-cut pale pink blouse, tight tan pants, and high heels. Her breasts were quite big and her make-up was rather thickly applied. Tutting, she tried not to judge while brushing at her hair with fingers in case it was in disarray.

The woman's hair was styled to cover her right eye. She examined Renny, Leon, and Claire, who were closest to entering. Her gaze held on Leon.

“No government.”

Claire was quick to take offense. “What are you talking about?”

A finger pointed at Leon. “No.” She pointed to Claire and then Renny. “Okay.”

Jake and Wesker approached, Sherry close behind but loitering near the cars. Eva had yet to leave the vehicle and the woman seemed curious as to the why. Krauser glanced Leon's way and jabbed a thumb back toward the car still inhabiting two people.

“Why don't you take them to the hospital, Leon? No agents wanted I guess.”

He looked prepared to argue or insult, but Claire pushed his shoulder which silenced a retort.

“It's a good idea, Leon. Agent Mercer and Eva need actual medical care Rebecca can't supply out here.”

He glared at the woman. “You got a name?”

“Maria,” she replied casually.

He looked at Claire. “This better be on the level.”

Kissing her on the lips, he spoke in a low volume, “Be careful.”

Rebecca watched him walk to the car and toward her. She tried to give him a confident smile and a thumbs up to appease his concerns. It didn't seem to work. Trading places with Billy, the engine turned on but Eva exited. She let the car reverse and turn, pulling onto the main road before she frowned at the stubborn woman, hands on her hips.

“You need to take care of yourself, you know.”

“So, Maria, you like burgers?”

The woman spun on a heel and went inside, ignoring Renny's pathetic attempt to flirt. Eva chose the cold shoulder in place of recognizing her appeal as a friend. Billy let his arm swing in her general proximity and she accepted the hand, squeezing and holding to it. She could use reassurance someone was with her, even if the younger woman did not want that now.

Their group of nine entered the diner. Renny trailed Maria like a puppy..or creep. Krauser motioned for Sherry and Jake to post by the door, sliding into the booth with them. Wondering if she'd be allowed to listen to the conversation, Billy led her to the counter and they sat on stools.

“Do you want coffee and pie?”

She grinned. “Do you have to ask?”

He signaled a waitress on the other side of the counter after she finished ringing up a customer at the register. Rebecca was distracted from Billy ordering when she noticed a man in the corner booth by the window. He had well-kept silver hair and wore expensive looking clothes. Fancy clothes for a diner. Handsome, but not attractive. The expression on his face caused her to feel unease.

Wesker let Claire and Eva sit opposite the man before sitting on the edge. Maria had taken to leaning on the wall near her..friend or boss's position. Renny had no shame or tact as he plopped down a mere foot from their contact, attention still on the object of his liking. The woman paid him no mind, staring blankly at the opposite end of the restaurant.

The man lowered his fork to drink his water. “Why don't you order. The eggs are a tad runny, but the meat is cooked adequate.”

Renny flipped around to sit proper and leaned too close to the stranger. “Don't become our enemy, yeah, guy?”

A smile crept across her face. He could be a total simpleton, and he could be totally on point. The pie slices arrived and she realized coffee was previously poured in her cup. She lifted the cup and took a sip. Piping hot but delicious. Billy wasted no time digging into the chocolate pie. Her stomach rumbled at the sight of the sweet treat about to be tasted.

“My name is Glenn Arias.”

The waitress showed to take orders from their table and the man's eyes rose, finding her. He stared, studying her face and looking at a loss. Arias looked away out the window and returned to her placement. She frowned and only then did he temper his reaction, clearing emotion for a more calculated expression.

“Who is the lady there?”

Wesker's utterance betrayed nothing. “Rebecca Coen. Her husband is the man beside her.”

He speculated a moment longer and rested his elbows on the table to regard Wesker instead. Rebecca relaxed, tension disappearing. She wrapped an arm around Billy briefly while she bent to scoop a piece of her pie from the plate to her mouth. Savoring the taste, she brought her arm to the counter for a more comfortable resting spot, taking a second bite. Lifting her coffee cup, she twisted to listen to the conversation happening several yards away.

“You need information,” Arias said. “I happen to have it.”

“I can guarantee live access. Eventually.”

“What does that mean?” Eva practically spat at her dad.

“You were fortunate,” Arias admitted, addressing Eva now. “I suddenly found availability and am in a charitable mood. New York City is the perfect example for the world. Governments should see how out of control their cities truly are, citizens made aware of how quickly their lives can be snuffed out.”

“Perfect example?” Claire demanded. “A lot of people died. What's wrong with you?” She stooped to glare angrily at Wesker past Eva. “Your contact is a terrorist, isn't he?”

“And a scientist, and former CIA,” Arias clarified. “I've worked with viruses. Created a significant one for use on the market. It took more time than I would have liked, and there's more I wish to create. All factors as to why I have presented myself for your benefit today.”

Eva narrowed her eyes. “Did Wesker say he'd get you material you could use to make a weaponized virus?”

Rebecca shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. The pie felt heavy on her tongue and she swallowed to be rid of it. She asked for a glass of water. Billy rubbed on the spot between her shoulder blades. Tension liked to gather there and he knew and saw it beginning.

“In a manner of speaking. But really, your goal is helpful to me.”

“Explain how,” Eva ordered between clenched teeth.

Arias adjusted his perfectly affixed tie. “You intend to eliminate my competition. Very helpful.”

She watched him cut a sausage link, eating the severed chunk. He seemed pretty pleased with himself. Rebecca knew she didn't like him. They shouldn't be dealing with his sort. Wasn't there some other way?

“Archer goes by the name because he makes deals by proxy, always at a distance. He doesn't require personal contact to make a deal or get a job done. He's acquired a near monopoly on the black market of bioweaponry. This halted the interests of the recently exposed government official Simmons and his cult following to an extent, and as I said, my own project has been slowed without access to everything I need.”

“What a pity,” Renny commented, giving his full attention to the arrival of their food. “Yum!”

“Unless you can tell us exactly where Archer is, we don't need your help.”

Rebecca laughed inwardly as Eva began poking her food with a fork following her claim, fascinated by the pile of pancakes over this man. Claire sucked on the glass of orange juice, peeking at Wesker above the rim. She felt it was a shared pondering among the women whether they even needed to be here.

Arias pushed his plate aside, leaning backward. “I wouldn't mind acquiring the assets you've held onto all these years, Wesker.”

“No.”

He scoffed. “Disappointing. Your morality chain has made you boring.”

“I'll blow off your junk with a Colt carrying .357 rounds. How's that for excitement?”

Arias peered out the window and then smirked at Eva. “Here's your golden goose.”

Krauser was the first to slide to his feet. Jake and Sherry followed suit, their urgency proving uncertain. Rebecca stayed in her seat but rotated on it to view the door. A woman with a bluish-red crimson shade scarf wrapped around the sides of her face, wearing a hat with a large brim, entered the diner. Her black jacket was closed tightly on her body, collar raised. Hiding her identity.

Hiding her scarred face. She recognized the woman from the photos while she unwound the material covering her after removing the large hat. Dr. Mya Sheppard, well known as a terrorist scientist who switched loyalties seemingly at the drop of a dime. Initial ambition was to resurrect Umbrella Corporation, evolving to black market merchandising to build her own company. She invented bullets with a chemical agent included that ate away at viruses, poisoning the host to temporarily weaken them.

Sheppard had a brilliant mind, and was insane. The contact had a contact. Arias got access to her. Impressive.

The woman took in the dining area and the people paying her particular attention. She eyed Krauser and Wesker the longest, finding them to be the most threatening perhaps. She walked over to the booth with Arias, nodded to Maria, and stared at Renny. The guy jumped upright and gave his seat, grabbing a chair from a different table to drag it over to his new spot on the end. He pulled his plate and glass in front of him and smiled at her.

She smiled cordially before examining Arias next to her and the three across. “I suppose you want to hear about Alex.”

“Who the fuck is Alex?”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You're the woman who got left behind?”

“I think you mean wife,” Claire said.

The doctor kept her eyes on Eva. “Alex is my employer. He goes by the name Archer. This is what you've heard?”

“Yeah. Tell us something we don't know,” Jake uttered, impatient. He sat back down, staring at their table.

Dr. Sheppard squandered her gift of intelligence, and she might have as well. Hospital work wasn't as fulfilling as she wanted it to be. Glenn Arias did work with viruses, Sheppard did. Both terrorists, both unquestionably bad people. Eva worked with viruses in a lab setting for the good guys. What if that was the kind of work she was meant to do?

“I'm his head researcher. We shared a vision, much like I did with Darius Greene.” Sheppard rested her arms on the table's surface. “I fell in love with Chris, you know. A fool's trap, yes?”

Wesker's eyes started to glow. Sheppard sighed morosely. “He's become more and more like Alex. I'm scared of Chris now.”

“What are you talking about? Where is he?” demanded Eva. “You're a psycho, so why are you even here?!”

Sheppard rubbed her forehead with a knuckle, seeming stressed. “Chris Redfield reached a stalemate, a rut. He defeated evil but more existed. The devil gave him an offer: 'Give up who you are to become who you were meant to be. Better and stronger. Invincible. A savior.' Destroy the world and make it anew. That is the decision he came to once he accepted Alex's offer, to make the pain of existence worthwhile.”

Poetic way of describing current events. It didn't sound like Chris though. It sounded like someone making an explanation for someone they didn't truly know.

Sherry called out, “Talk normal! You're wasting time!”

The woman touched the disfigured flesh on her face, feather light. “I want to get him away from Alex. I want to help you free him.”

Rebecca turned to Billy and held his hand. She wanted to find and rescue Chris a great deal. This better be real hope.


	7. Melody's Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own the song used in this chapter. It belongs to the writers and performers and I make no profit using the lyrics here. No need to sue or flame me, this is only for fun. If you would like to find the song to listen for yourself, it is "Rain" by AmaLee.

He chomped into the juicy burger. This place had good shit. Renny snatched a napkin out of the holder to dab at ketchup and meat juice on his face. Mr. Fancy seemed the type to care about somebody being presentable. A conceited criminal. He certainly wasn't unique there.

So Mya claimed she wants to help them save Chris. Yeah, he'd trust the lady as far as he could throw her. There was a shine to her eyes, indicative of an idea popping in her head.

“Accelerate metabolizing the control chemical and be rid of Alex's puppet. The version in use has a distinct weakness to electricity. Arias can supply you with S bullets to slow his bioweapon nature down too.”

Renny grinned, dropping the sandwich. “Is the S for your name? Sheppard? A bit vain, hm?”

She returned a grin, heavy scarring wrinkling on more than half her face. Shame. She might have been hot before all that got messed up.

“S is for Superhuman. But it's kind of you to be jealous of my achievement.”

“Still weak, I see,” Wesker remarked. “Fickle as ever.”

Her grin lessened and she shrugged, looking out the front window. “Chris has a habit of inspiring that in people.”

“Fickleness?”

She frowned at Renny. “Change.”

He chuckled, reaching for the ketchup bottle and stuffing a few fries in his mouth while he was at it. “Evil scientist is sensitive.”

Squirting the condiment on a section of his plate, he focused on food. His gaze lifted hearing a noise. A truck had driven and parked at a gas pump. No one was getting out. An identical truck arrived, parking on the road almost out of sight of the parking area.

Renny snatched a napkin and wiped his hands, tugging his gun out of the shoulder holster under his jacket. “Damn. I wanted to finish eating.”

Krauser stood. “I thought they might be government. DSO?”

Claire sipped her drink, surveying out the window. “Leon wouldn't have sent them. He would be watching Mercer, so he didn't send them either. A different organization? Local cops? FBI?”

Mya shook her head and got out of the booth. “They're here for me.”

He shoved his chair backward and rose. “Didn't get much lead on your former people, huh? Great.”

“Alex dominates the black market in biological warfare. He can afford fantastic security measures.” Mya strolled toward the hallway where presumably there was a second exit. “Since you lot formed to find the one responsible for the few acts of terrorism over the last half decade, extra guards are on duty. It was damn near impossible to get out.”

“Why'd you leave then? Why risk it?” Claire looked ready to crawl on the table to remove herself from the booth if necessary.

She was meant to be insane, right? Twisted world view, warped perspective, and so on. Renny's sister went a bit crazy. Not crazy crazy. Just... She grew depressed and tired of the world's shit. People could be total shits. Angela spent years struggling to feel content enough to live a day at a time. He should call her; make sure she was doing all right.

Wesker stiffened. “Get down!”

“Fuckin' hell!” he yelled, throwing himself to the tile floor.

He tried to lift his gaze to see how everyone else was as bullets hammered into the dining room. Tables and chairs splintered and tore apart. The front window shattered because someone had taken position to also pump hot lead in that way. He possibly heard shouting and screaming, although hard to tell above the guns.

Eva and Claire managed to squirm and flatten themselves beneath the table. He didn't know where Maria got to, and her friend was running low to cross the room. A waitress screamed and crashed into the door frame leading to the kitchen. She left a smear of blood behind. He wasn't sure why he did it, but he ran after the guy.

They ran behind the counter. Rebecca's and his eyes met. She was braced against the counter really looking like she'd rather be anywhere else. Billy crawled toward the other side in an attempt to peer around the corner and find opportunity to do something. He groaned. Arias was on the move again and he pushed himself to keep following.

Renny swore, stumbling over Mya's body. He would have continued going in spite of his surprise. She started spewing breaths, reaching for his ankle close to her extended arm. Crouching by her side, he checked both directions. There was a lull in fire.

“You know...” she rasped.

He leaned in, thinking he should place his hands somewhere to stem the bleeding. There was so much of it though. He didn't know where to start. He'd seen a few people with fatal wounds. Mya would die and nothing he did could change that.

Blood streamed from her mouth. “It really was about making the world a better place..once.”

“You're going to pieces on me now.” He shook his head in denial, fighting to hold composure. “Let me see your brilliant smile.”

She stilled. Renny slumped on his knees. Or _not_.

“Renny!”

Jake walked into the narrow hall. “Do you hear that? I think it's a sniper. Come on!”

He watched the guy go past to the back door. Rising to follow, he glanced back to see Eva and Billy moving for the front doors. Maria passed him as well and he finally got it in gear.

He'd guess snipers, plural. The snipers seemed to be on their side. Did they belong to Arias? Nah. The shots almost eliminated him and his busty partner.

Renny burst through the door before realizing he should have used caution. It turned out okay. No bullets shot at him, and he soaked in the sight of hired guns in gray outfits strewn about the place. Maria was checking their bodies for pulses. Jake was next to Arias, looking at someone jogging over. He matched the outfit of the others so it was curious why nobody was shooting. He did carry a sniper rifle.

“Friendly?”

Quickening his pace, he approached the three men, gripping his gun in an overabundance of caution.

“Hey! Is he friendly?”

By this point, guy could speak for himself. “We chose not to pop your melons. You're welcome to make your own assessment from there.”

Renny smiled. He liked him. Maria meandered to them.

“We?”

“Yo!” Four pairs of eyes looked at the second guy perched atop the roof. “What's up?”

He pulled an earpiece out and let it hang around his neck. Lowering the long-barreled gun, he offered his gloved hand to shake Arias's gloved hand. Prim and proper got one to think they were the person in charge, eh? Eh...

Arias shook the hand. “You would be..?”

“Remy Gilford. My partner up there is Carter Collins.” He smiled wider. “We're your saviors.”

Jake grunted, irked. “Aren't these your buddies?”

“We've decided to seek a new avenue of employment, my friend and I,” explained Gilford. “The work they were asking us to continuously do...”

“It's not for us, man,” Collins added as he joined them slightly out of breath. “That guy ain't right in the skull. He's a sick fella.”

“Who are you?” Eva shouted, hurrying to see what was what. The others accompanied her. “What do you know? What do you want?”

She sounded out of patience. Their group gathering in growing numbers, Renny looked at their surroundings. The employees had to be inside hiding or hurt. Someone would call the police if they hadn't already. This stop was far from civilization though, so help wouldn't be fast to arrive. For good and bad...

Wesker arrived last. “Answer her.”

“Hello. Remy Gilford.”

“Carter Collins. Chill.”

“We were hired less than a year ago,” Collins told them, grasping his sniper rifle like a dear companion. “Our job was to handle Legend. Make sure he was treated well, ate and slept, and we monitored his P30 levels.”

Gilford surveyed their outward condition, how a few had cuts and bruises, an arm in a sling. “When the asset escapes, our skills and the asset Melody were go-to for retrieval. Up close is virtual suicide, I reckon you've learned.”

“What the hell did you do to him, recapturing him? Huh?”

The close-shaven one forgot his precious rifle in an instant, answering solemn. “Standard is sedation, home delivery, and administration of medication.”

“Home?” snarled Eva. “What bullshit. I-”

“We brought a gift,” Collins interrupted, trying to appease. “Melody figured she wouldn't be able to give it to you herself.”

Renny made a face. “She was right about that.”

Gilford smiled in a fond manner. “She's usually right about things.”

“Was,” Collins fixed, holding something outward in his palm. “Here. This could help Chris. That's what Melody said.”

Billy crossed his arms on his chest. “A computer drive? What's on it that you can't just tell us?”

Eva rushed forward and grabbed it. “Melody's more of a visionary.”

Rebecca predicted her need. “Does anyone have a computer?”

“I think I saw someone in the diner using a laptop,” Sherry considered.

“You may use my equipment,” offered Arias. “The back of my truck is set up with computers and screens for..well, it's available for your use if you'd like.”

Eva was quick to take the offer. No more discussion occurred as it was evident the young woman wanted to know what was on the drive. Renny went with the rest to a black truck he hadn't noticed when they parked in the lot. Five of them stood in the back with Arias, while Maria and the others viewed from the open doors. Multiple screens covered the walls and Arias arranged for the video file on the drive to play across all of them. He hit play and the monitors mostly remained dark.

The room was pitch black, glowing blue eyes the sole source of light. “I got close enough thanks to Collins and Gilford. Close enough and long enough for him to imprint on me. These are his feelings. I hope you can see what I see.”

A few seconds of silence came after her words. Soft music began, picking up in volume and with louder instruments. Renny used to play guitar as a teenager trying to be cool for the ladies. His dad was basically a big kid, even in his sixties, and was a huge Keith Richards fan. The celebrity provided his namesake. He pretended to be into the Rolling Stones to make his dad proud, but his jam was more Queen or Elvis. The music softened for the incoming vocals he knew to be on the way.

_“The truth in front of my eyes, along with all these desperate lies... Fade away like they're old memories.”_

It was a fantastic voice, melodic and talented. He wasn't sure what to expect. This bioweapon named Melody supposedly had premonition powers tied to emotion and expressed through song. Claire told him real life events past, present, or future could be displayed. She'd seen the woman's singing power appear in holographic presentation once before. So the words were Chris's words? His thoughts? His feelings?

_“The warmth of someone's love, I have no feeling of. All those things I don't know anymore.”_

Rain pattered the window pane, sound distinct even as the image was blurry and unfocused. All he could see was a blurry hand on the window, belonging to a dark shadow whose identity he couldn't decipher. And then he could. Eva Jane. He thought that was the house where she lived.

_“You told me when you left me, that I'd be fine all on my own. From your lips, you spoke one last goodbye.”_

Leena! His old friend appeared, cementing into a more solid figure. Wait. The location changed to some plainer place inside a nondescript room. She was bleeding something awful, grasping the wall desperately, crying. Chris was there in BSAA attire, a regular jacket covering the irrelevant emblem. He looked confused and shocked, and Renny choked on his own spit when a blade pierced through Chris's chest from behind, impaling sudden. A massive shower of blood followed as the broad sword was yanked back out. Either a sword or a very long knife.

_“That look of sympathy, it's nothing new to me. You would think by now it wouldn't faze me.”_

She betrayed Chris to his death. That was what they believed of Leena Goessing for years. Mostly accurate. He stared at the images of the two people staring at each other. Chris wore an expression of pain and disbelief, but it quickly shifted to despondent. Leena looked guilty and apologetic. How she could do what she did, he just couldn't understand.

_“Merciless memories. They're ringing on so unforgivingly. They show no intent of letting me go free.”_

Music was growing louder in the background. Everything was changing. Dark room, no, a cage, and Chris was inside, huddled in on himself seated at the center. An animal cage? The blurry images expanded, and Renny could see the room was large, dim lighting because of a too high ceiling.

_“And if I close my eyes, and try to drown them out, they only grow. They're closing in..and far away, you laugh.”_

A cage opposite held an overgrown wolf which couldn't be natural. It was a worse fit for the animal than for the nude human forlornly seated. He realized they were staring at the other, eyes locked. Flashing light of a blinking traffic spot and this Melody was showing them a city landscape. Rain poured but it was like Chris didn't notice, standing unmoving on a high rooftop. The music picked up as a presumable chorus occurred.

_“Will the rain falling down ever find an ending? All this time, I've been waiting in the freezing cold.”_

Renny wasn't able to pinpoint where he was being shown. Chris watched the people and cars go by. He wore his black outfit and gear. He was looking lost, but then he appeared to start thinking. Determination set in.

_“Will the rain ever leave me alone? I wonder why it chose... To follow me..when there's nowhere else I can go?”_

The music grew quieter again. He gagged watching Chris street-level, eating somebody's blood. Or drinking, rather. No relief came when he identified the victim was an infected dressed in a soldier outfit. His old friend lifted his gaze as if hearing a noise, eyes glowing.

_“This fleeting breaking morning, I wish would last a moment more. But again, time isn't on my side.”_

Eva gasped, muttering something about a co-worker and a mugging. Chris had jumped some lady, seemed all vacant and creepy, and must have grabbed her bag. He was a bit distracted by the giant wolf trailing him from the outskirts of a forest. These images swirled and altered too much.

_“I'm realizing at last, I've been chasing the past. I've been heading in the wrong direction.”_

Chris stood somewhere new, in a building. A house. He stood beside a man wearing a ball cap. Renny tried to glimpse his face and couldn't see more than to recognize it was likely the man they'd seen before in that video. He instantly felt intense hatred for what the man did to him.

_“You tried to give me a hand, so I could start again as best I can. But I was a fool and couldn't turn to you.”_

The hatred didn't die down and he clenched his fists. Eva and Chris were embracing, the former sobbing and the latter cold as ice. Someone was screaming in horror. The singer? Someplace else, tears streamed from Chris's eyes as he sank to his knees, howling agony.

_“So far I held it back. But any moment now I know I'll crack. When all my pain..is pouring down my face.”_

Everything went black following a momentary glimpse of New York in flames. There were explosions coming from beneath the ground. There had to have been something down below. The black illuminated by figures on a massive platform. No..a ship. It must be the freighter Krauser told them about. What was going on? He was still feeling so angry. Eva grasped Chris's arm limp on the hospital bed where he lay asleep.

_“Eyes like yours, don't wanna know about a past like mine. Hands like yours, gently brush away the tears I cry.”_

Claire held her brother. He was safe! Wha-? Glimpses of fighting between them and Chris. Past and present were completely blurred?

_“But these scars, I know they'll only heal if I give them time. That distant future..no longer seems far away!”_

Renny recognized the lab right away. Except none of them were there. It was Chris, and the man in the cap frustratingly standing with his back to the screen. If only Melody recorded this just a little differently. Chris was writhing on the floor, veins blackened, pupils circled in bright green. The music maintained its upbeat, building manner. Impressive guitar work. Flashes of Chris in violent conflicts. He couldn't make sense of any details. He got enough from it to worry “Legend” was capable of killing the shit out of them all.

He flinched, seeing he'd dug his nails into his palms deep, drawing blood.

_“Will the rain falling down ever find an ending?”_

The music was subdued. Chris stood with his wolf and it was freakish huge, like house-size. The pair of them had glowing green eyes. It wasn't so much a wolf as it was a..reptilian looking creature. He didn't want to say dragon, because it was not like a dragon. But dragon was the closest thing to a description he could think to call it. Now in a field?

_“All this time, I've been waiting in the freezing cold!”_

The music volume was so loud. He could feel such misery. These feelings weren't his feelings.

_“Will the rain ever leave me alone? I wonder why it chose! To swallow me..and to take me whole?”_

Melody's glowing blue eyes filled his vision. He flinched, looking away. The poor victims of bastard corporations... How many times would people die because of them?

_“It storms on, into another new day it's pouring on. And I watch, knowing that there is no end in sight.”_

Chris was on top of a different tall building. It was a lot higher up than the earlier one, overlooking city lights at night. Rain flooded, hammering his body. He gave no reaction. His hand gripped the gun on his thigh before releasing. He turned to walk off into the dark.

_“Here we stand, hand-in-hand now as we look out on the world. Just one umbrella..to keep us dry from the storm!”_

The energetic music went on a good ten seconds. In that time, there were horrific sights of bloody torture. The man appeared filleted at one point. He caught a moment of Wesker standing at a hospital window. Somewhere unclear, thunder boomed and lightning flashed. An even briefer glimpse of a brunette woman with a ponytail and blue ball cap running through a grassy field. Wesker putting on his sunglasses while grabbing someone's arm and pulling them with him, tossing a uniform at the person. Almost..nice, for that guy.

And the music cut out. No further images appeared. Renny thought she might say something, and he was right.

“There won't be a tomorrow. He'll be the end of everything. There won't be a new breed of superhumans or soldiers or whatever!” She sounded anxious and fearful. “He'll destroy the planet and make a new one, except there won't _be_ a new one. There will be nothing. Just blackness. I've seen the future. If he doesn't change his mind, he will succeed. Bring Chris back to himself, or there won't be a future for anyone. Legend will see it through.”


	8. One of the Lost

Everyone's faces swirled. She sat on the ground outside the truck to gain her wits. They were talking too loud. Her headache was growing and she felt stuck in place.

“Because when he overcomes his leash, he tends to rampage,” Gilford told those listening.

Chris, not Chris, may target bioweapons and their makers or users. Innocent people had gotten caught in the crossfire plenty. They'd have to live with that.

“This is Legend,” Collins insisted. “Not whoever he might have been before.”

“His name is Chris Redfield,” Renny insisted, defensive.

“Legend,” Collins said. “And Legend is apathetic. He doesn't care.”

“Are you saying he's two people?” Arias questioned.

“No, nothing like that,” replied Gilford.

Eva burrowed her face in her palms. She was tired. Noise that sounded like people getting out of the back of the truck reached her ears. She couldn't bring herself to show interest.

“Legend has no past,” Collins said, sounding as though he was making shit up. “The constant injections and experimentation erased his memories. With it his emotions dissipated I guess.”

Claire murmured close to where she was sitting, “He's not him without his memories.”

The older looking sniper took the weapon from Collins. They seemed to be preparing to go. Wesker's boots appeared in her line of vision. She pointedly stood without looking in her dad's direction, turning toward Rebecca and Sherry.

“It was better than Archer could ever hope for,” Krauser concluded. “An enemy made into an obedient, mindless soldier.”

“Or planned for,” Wesker said.

“When the control aspect of the drug cocktail he's regularly given is overcome, only the obedience recedes. He is still not who he was..I imagine.” Gilford winced at words he hadn't said yet. “All he remembers is anger and pain. That much we've been able to ascertain upon numerous recaptures.”

“Legend..?”

“That's right,” Collins responded to Billy's utterance. “Legend is a bioweapon of extreme proportions. Incredibly difficult to kill, abnormally strong and fast. And..self-hating. Why else would he go after other bioweapon facilities and supporters at every opportunity he is free from Archer's control?”

“Maybe he remembers a part of his old life. He could be remembering how strongly he was against bioweapons! I mean _is_ against!”

Their looks of sympathy pissed her off. The mercenary snipers shared about Melody's life after showing them the video. This Archer, Alex, whoever, wanted to use her premonition power but had minimal success as her power is mostly triggered by emotional cues. Difficult to achieve in a laboratory setting. She was combat trained for field use and the pair hired on as handlers worked with her. For Melody to ask for a favor, they must have showed her kindness.

Indeed, Collins told them the bioweapon was allowed a hobby of singing to appease and gain her cooperation. They expanded her cage to keep her happy. Archer recorded the songs in hopes of learning future incidents. And she slipped out of that cage with the help of the handlers to look for Chris. Instead of capturing him immediately, she remained near him for enough time to absorb his emotions and generate a song. Her predictions were accurate as far as Eva knew. What was going to happen was mega bad if so.

They parted ways pretty quickly. The two men hired to babysit a person they didn't realize was a prisoner were ashamed by the discovery. She could tell that much. They'd known his name was Chris; thought he volunteered for an experiment. Collins and Gilford did not know he was Chris Redfield until Eva told them. They left with Sheppard's body to keep pretending to be working for their boss. Gilford would say she never had opportunity to meet with anyone. Collins put a tracker on the dead woman's clothing for them to track to locate Chris.

She found water inside and drank slowly from the cup. Her dad was on to her illness. She needed to hold it together and appear in decent health as long as she could. The broken bones in her hand actually helped her to act like this was the reason she felt poor. It was the least painful part of her right now.

“We're getting him back, Eva. Don't worry,” Rebecca reassured when they entered the parking lot to head out.

“I want to get home to my kids.”

“Okay,” Sherry responded, eager to lend support. “Let's go see them.”

Krauser and Jake found their way back to the government SUVs. They carried duffel bags on both shoulders. Sheppard's designed S ammunition and stun guns, electric batons, and a very special stun gun called a Spark Shot. Arias warned them it had a lengthy charge time and the wires could snap, but on the pro side it packed high voltage for high damage. The gun used needle cartridges and wasn't a popular request, providing them a finite amount of shots. It was generous for him to give free of charge. Except it wasn't free of charge and Wesker would never tell her what the price was if she asked.

Claire selected the Spark Shot and weighed it in her hands. “This seems familiar.”

“Have you seen it before?” Jake asked.

“I don't know,” she responded, lost in thought. “Maybe.”

On the road, Eva faded out of mind a while. She'd taken the backseat for the most privacy. Claire sat herself at the other end and gave up trying conversation after the first couple attempts. The dot on the tracker device was possibly leading them toward Denver. It was a lot of hours from here to there.

Arias supplied them with a few bulletproof vests and several assault vests. When she wouldn't choose, Wesker made her wear a stab proof one. Rebecca picked the same kind. Jake and Billy opted for bulletproof, deciding they'd be on the front lines. That left a bulletproof one which Renny wouldn't hear otherwise but for Claire to have it.

It wasn't comfortable wearing the damn thing. She'd put it on under her gray sweatshirt so it would fit, over her tank top. Her long jacket was heavy though, in addition to the vest. The ache in her muscles and the emotional weariness, not helping. She scrounged a little humor in the black vest when she wished to wear less of that color.

What she wished for and what happened were often very different things. Eva was beginning to understand it wouldn't be as simple as recovering Chris. She had to consider if she changed during the years in between his disappearance and reappearance, his change would be much more severe. No matter what happened next, her kids are amazing and she has them. It was okay. Really.

“Is it just me, or does Chris look exactly the same as he did six years ago?”

She blinked to better awareness within the car. Renny sat in the middle seat by himself, Krauser driving and Jake in the front passenger seat. Eva preferred any of them compared to her dad, who was currently driving the second vehicle ahead of them.

“I mean, besides his new psychopathic tendencies and less muscle mass in the arms.”

Claire glanced at her and then Renny. “Chris doesn't age because of the virus. He told you that.”

“Yeah, well, I thought he might be a little..crazy after everything he'd seen. Someone telling you they're immortal sounds pretty crazy.”

Jake peered beyond his seat. “You know about Wesker.”

“I don't know what I know!” Renny looked stupefied momentarily. “And..you know, I thought Wesker might be metrosexual enough to just look that good, no matter his age.”

“I'm gonna be the voice of opposition.”

Eva saw his eyes looking at her in the rear view mirror. She sensed what he was getting at before he said it.

“That isn't Chris anymore. Get it through your head. That's an Umbrella experiment at its finest.”

Jake's expression darkened. “What are you doing, asshole?”

“Umbrella's gone.” Claire straightened her posture, warily eyeing the man behind the wheel.

An argument brewing. Fantastic. She did not feel well enough for this.

“Yes, but their legacy lives on. Creating unlawful, monstrous things in order to make change. That thing isn't a friend to anyone. It'd rather see us dead than tolerate us.”

She stared out the car window, watching the buildings passing by. This was a decent-sized town, tall buildings in an apparent business district coming in sight. Negative thoughts tore at the edges of her thoughts. How many towns like this did Chris destroy against his will?

“It's Chris,” Renny began, tugging at his seat belt when it constricted his chest a bit too firm. “Not _it_. He. He's Chris. We're his friends. It's up to us to bring him back home. He spent his entire life saving people, including each of us. It's our turn to save him. He's still Chris.”

“You know, I hate to say it, but Krauser's got something,” Jake admitted. “Redfield might have saved all of us at some point, but he-not him-Legend, nearly killed all of us at some point.”

“Shut up!” Claire glared, furious.

“I don't mean to start a fight, okay? But-”

“Hey!” Renny yelled.

“No!” Eva yelled, louder, and banged her good hand on the window for good measure. “Our mission is to stop the one who hurt him. There's nothing else to talk about.”

Silence descended. Renny twisted in his seat, glancing at her and Claire. He sat back proper, rubbing his jaw.

“I've been thinking...”

“Don't hurt yourself, Ren.”

He ignored Claire, continuing, “You didn't consider the rule of prey?”

“What's that?” Krauser asked.

“So you've been tracking him down, searching him out every time, right?”

“Right.”

“Certain prey become offensive and deadly creatures when hunted.” Renny looked surprised none of them appeared to see what he meant. “Did you ever think maybe _he_ might hunt you?”

“You mean us,” Eva corrected petulantly.

Something weighing a couple hundred pounds dropped on the roof of the SUV. Eva shrieked unintentionally, ducking in her seat and peeking upward. There was an indent and they could hear metal protesting as the person or creature moved forward. Walking on the roof of a car moving thirty miles an hour. Right.

Not really thinking, she rolled down the window and poked her head out. She saw someone in black combat clothing twirl off of it toward the foremost vehicle. Chris slashed a tire and the rim and axle flew off. The tire went flying and the car flipped several times.

“Shit!”

“Fuck!”

Krauser tried to avoid the upside down SUV spinning on its roof to a stop. He didn't succeed and his swerve smashed the right side of the vehicle into it. Jake and Claire were trapped on that side, doors crunched inward. Nobody looked hurt. She checked to be sure.

“Everybody alright?”

“Y-yeah. Yes.”

“Yup.”

“Was that Chris?” Renny questioned in disbelief.

Krauser opened his door. “It was. Get out everybody. Watch your asses.”

Eva struggled out of her door, holding her arm carefully in the sling. Claire shuffled out after her and Renny was already on the outside moving to recover the two bags stored on the middle seat. She searched for Chris. It didn't take long to see him.

“Billy!” screamed Rebecca, numerous bullets slamming into her husband's chest, knocking him to the ground.

Moving away from the car, she crouched when more gunfire reached her ears. Chris had gone to the opposite side of the street to attack Wesker with his sword. She didn't see Sherry anywhere. Renny grabbed her arm, pulling her along with him to the sidewalk, calling for the others to move.

“Hell no!” she yelled, realizing that large wolf was rushing the upright car from a fair distance.

But fast. Claire seemed clear as the creature collided with the rear of the SUV. It flipped and the woman scurried to throw herself as far as possible. The massive weight fell on her. Jake ran forward, kneeling to figure a method to free her. She was pinned.

Krauser approached to trade places with him. “Help them. I've got the super strength.”

Jake barked a quick laugh. “I was better off as a mercenary. Should have signed a contract before this shit.”

“You kinda are a mercenary,” Eva said, scanning the bag closest to her and crouching. “Go check on Sherry!”

“Right, right.” Seeming to get his thoughts collected, he went, mumbling about the things he did for women.

Rebecca still sobbing, was fighting to get it together. She was relieved to watch Billy finding his feet, out of breath yet alive. Bulletproof vest. Awesome. Eva became distracted upon sight of the man in the black ball cap on the prowl.

Jake was with Sherry, hurrying away from the wolf. Chris took notice of the retreat and responded by raising a gun he held at his side, firing four times. Her brother wore a bulletproof vest as well, which didn't help the hot metal piercing his legs.

Cursing inwardly, no time to waste, Eva brought out the Spark Shot. She racked a slide of needles on the top where it went, praying she did it correct. Her husband, her love, her problem.

Billy stood next to her, taking the weapon out of her hands. “Your hand, Eva. You're making it worse.”

Grimacing from the pain she'd been working to ignore, she paid careful attention to his aim. “Shoot when I say.”

“Alright then.” Billy lined up the shot, estimating Chris's speed and movements while he fought Sherry, Wesker, and Rebecca at the same time.

Renny removed a regular stun gun, striding past her. She maintained her focus on the present matter. A glance told her Claire was freed of the car but lying in the street. Krauser was moving on, circling the wolf growling at him.

She saw her target spot. “Now!”

The shot struck full on, rooting him in seizing motions. He delivered the entire payload. Eva sighed at his rapid recovery, and despised the lines appearing on his neck and the lower portion of his face. The control element forcing him to try and murder them. The poison making him Legend.

An elbow jammed into Rebecca's assault vest, propelling her backward and off her feet. Chris spun and shot at Sherry, who dropped flat. He came for Wesker then, and she was confused to watch him pummeled. Losing it, she drew her handgun and fired. A round clipped his shoulder and was paid no mind.

“Chris!”

She shot and hit the arm connected to that shoulder. The arm kept drawing back to strike again. She walked closer, shooting his hand.

“Chris! Look at me!”

He wanted to keep assailing her dad. The bullets were Sheppard's special brand. It was having an effect. Chris staggered aside and she visually checked Wesker's condition. He was bloody, but breathing. He'd taken a few bullets from his opponent, explaining the lack of self-defense. He needed time to heal and to ensure the stability of his virus to recuperate strength.

Renny fired the stun gun into his neck. Chris went down to his knees, grasping at the metal prongs causing electricity to shock his system. He lifted his head, glowing green eyes seeking someone to harm. Dark veins marred his complexion as the chemical surged overtime to lock the human under its command.

Not this time. Chris was not one of the lost. He wouldn't die and he wouldn't kill any of them. His gaze sought her father struggling to stand upright. He dragged his sword off the ground and brought it above his head as he stood.

“Stop! Look! Chris! Chriiiis!”

He glanced toward her and she holstered the gun quick, reaching out for him. She didn't want to appear threatening. Her desperation was obvious and bad enough in her opinion. Chris's eyes swiveled from her face to her hand.

His brow crinkled. “E-Eva.”

What. _What?!_

“Chris!”

“Eva!”

“Holy shit!” Renny almost stumbled off his feet in shock.

She gasped, a projectile hitting him in the chest. Sniper. A good one at that. She couldn't identify which roof behind her the shooter was on. Gilford and Collins wouldn't resume their retrieval duties, would they?

Chris was still in a fractured state, repressed personality emerging. Whatever was in that dart seemed to be undoing the tiniest seconds of freedom he had. Unacceptable. No way.

“Chris!”

He was backing away from them, looking pained. “Rr-r-run!”

He pulled a knife and stabbed himself in the ribs beneath his vest.

“Chris, no!” cried Rebecca.

“Run!”

Wesker was there, dragging her along. She knew why. The drug was overtaking him, forming him into a nightmare enemy. She couldn't leave him.

Not everyone was with them. Were they okay? He was charging at them, so those left behind shouldn't be at risk for further attack. She counted. Renny, Billy, and Sherry were on the run. That would mean Rebecca, Krauser, Claire, and Jake weren't among them. Chris was fast on their tail.

For the first time, she remembered it was broad daylight and there were people around. This Archer didn't care about witnesses? He would assault them out in the open? He-?

She dug in her heels and her dad halted to find the reason.

“He's gone!” Renny said before she could voice the same thought.

They'd traveled a couple blocks. The people going about their ordinary day were staring at the sight of them uncertainly. Eva could hear shouts and cries coming from the direction of the crash. Sirens sounded in the distance.

He _was_ gone. Again. Tears welled in her eyes. Wesker kept them moving, saying they'd find the hospital. They turned into a crowded side street filled with vendors and shoppers. Sherry led onward, determined to reach that appointed destination.

Eva raised her head and Chris was walking to her. His cap brim was pulled low and his shoulders hunched. There was no sword she could see and he wore a long coat over the rest of his attire. It was him. But it couldn't be. How could he be there among normal people?

A knife stabbed her in the chest. The tears leaked down her cheeks, soaking her face and neck. Chris continued walking on by, mixing into the crowd. Wesker noticed something wrong. Wonderful.

She and Chris were never meant to be. Eva glorified him when he died. She knew that. Oh it hurt. She just wanted to go home and hug her babies.


	9. Undying Forever

_Unknown town, Colorado_

Okay. She wasn't dying. She wasn't even bleeding. This vest was miraculous. It really did hurt though. And she recalled she really was dying. Her luck was shit. Her _life_ was shit.

Her dad yanked her by the arm to get them to shelter in an alley near a dumpster. How fitting. He'd also grabbed her by the arm attached to _that_ hand.

“Broken bones, Dad! Let go!”

He let go and she switched her frown to the others. Sherry was distressed, staring at the combat knife sticking in her sweatshirt. Billy dialed a number on his phone and walked farther into the alley to hear the call. He was probably calling Rebecca to see about the rest of them. That'd be good.

Renny put his hands on her shoulders and examined the weapon. “Did it get through? Are you bleeding? Should we pull this out?”

She placed the good hand on his chest for counterbalance. “I got it.”

The man grimaced stronger than she did when she grasped the blade handle tight and pulled it out. Wesker plucked the knife from her which earned him a scowl. Eva lifted the sweatshirt up to survey the damage. The sweatshirt was a lost cause, the vest would need to be discarded, but her tank top remained intact. She was pretty sure her sternum had taken a solid bruising. It hurt like hell.

“Eva...”

“I'm fine, Wesker.” She wiped the wetness from her face. “Remember, we're saving Chris, not killing him. Okay?”

Billy walked back to them. “Rebecca went with one of the ambulances to the nearest hospital. It's about six blocks from here.”

“How are they?” asked Sherry. “How's Jake?”

“I can't say. Rebecca's accompanying Claire, who I _can_ tell you is doing well. She has crush injuries causing massive bruising and some internal bleeding. They won't know facts until they get her to a doctor but she's alert and in pain. Good things.

Eva smirked dourly. “Right. Good things.”

“We should get to the hospital,” Renny said, squeezing the bridge of his nose like a headache was coming on.

She sighed. “Fine. We have to make sure everyone's alright. After we do, I want to see my kids.”

They completed the necessary walk in low spirits. On her end anyway. She was freaking tired and required sleep for days. Getting Chris back alive was a desperation she wished to ignore. It was hilarious how easy/not easy her life used to be prior to what her existence was now.

Krauser was strolling out of the emergency entrance doors when they arrived. Surprisingly, Leon drove up, parking and jogging to meet him. It looked as though Wesker would loiter nowhere near his other kid. Nice.

“Go check on Jake with Sherry, Wesker.” She left no room for discussion. “I'll go with Billy to find Rebecca and Claire.”

Eva studied Leon and Krauser talking and going inside together. Neither noticed their arrival. She smothered a cough and went in. They were both worried but Billy was on another level.

They located Claire first. She was drugged out of her skull and quite happy with it. Exhausted too. Expressing her deepest desire to eat cupcakes, she mumbled on and on how Chris wouldn't let her have any more before passing out. A nurse told them bleeding from lacerations had been stopped, she was out of danger, and while she'd be bed-ridden for a couple days, she would make a full recovery.

Renny came to the rescue when she was debating whether to stay so Claire wouldn't be left alone. He sat with her and Billy was out the door in an instant. Eva quickened her pace to keep sight of him. She was having a difficult time pretending she wasn't beginning one of her bad days.

There was a doctor who ambushed her once returning to the first floor. Billy put aside searching for his wife to ensure she allowed herself professional care. Annoying. It took forever. X-rays, discussion of possible surgery depending... She dismissed that idea on the spot. The whole thing had to be wrapped and cast. Her arm was placed in a sling and she was told to keep the limb above her heart where possible to manage pain. Eva did appreciate the pain medication given which she would add to the pills she was already on for the whole..gradual organ failure inevitability.

Across the hall was a bathroom where she threw water on her face. She allowed the coughing fit to start and spent far longer than she planned waiting for her body to feel ready for moving about like a regular person. Satisfied enough by the reflection in the mirror, she glanced at the vest and sweatshirt left trashed in the bin. It wasn't a beloved piece of apparel or anything. Shrugging into her leather jacket, she applied the sling again and exited to the hall.

Her timing turned out to be fortuitous. Billy was sitting on a bench close to the bathroom with Rebecca. She appeared tired but content. The woman lit up when she saw Eva, choosing to remain seated. Her arm was hooked in Billy's arm. Cute.

“Eva, hi.” She rested her head on the wall behind and shut her eyes as she began a recitation. “I heard you saw Claire. Jake's still in surgery. They're taking the bullets out of his legs and stopping the bleeding. I supervised for a while. It's going great. He's going to be fine. Long recovery ahead, but fine. Everybody will be fine. It's good news.”

She smiled the best she could. “We have to stop Chris. We can't keep doing this.”

“Eva! You guys are alright.” She turned to find Leon hurrying down the hall toward them. “I never see an end to this shit. It's a relief you're not worse off.”

“Did you see Claire?” Rebecca asked.

“She's sleeping.” His cheery demeanor faded and he stood beside her, glancing sideways. “How much longer can we keep going on like this?”

“Those two will be in the hospital for a while,” Billy said, climbing to his feet. “We should go wherever we're going.”

Eva checked her cell battery. One bar. Al and D needed their mother. She had to get home.

Feeling a renewed sense of urgency, she asked, “Where's Wesker? Let's get moving.”

She ran out the automatic doors, unwilling to wait for the others.

“Don't be rash, girly.”

Eva halted immediate and located the moron leaning on the outside wall. “Girly? Really?”

Krauser grinned and held something higher in his right hand. “I have the key.”

“Good for you. Get behind the wheel and bring the car around. Let's get this party moving.”

“Pushy, pushy. Yes, ma'am.”

He went to do what she said. Leon stood with her, looking around in front of them when he obviously wished to speak. Eva ignored this and thought of her kids' faces. She used to be anti-aging and now she was anti-living. She was a bucketful of sunshine, wasn't she?

“Eva, we'll help him. This won't be forever.”

“Thanks, Leon. Come on.”

Instead of the far back, she got in the front passenger door. Krauser could be a talker, but not usually with her. The odds were better she'd be left alone. Leon and Sherry filed in, sitting at the back. Rebecca and Billy next. The former offered encouraging words as she settled on the middle window seat. Renny was a little less welcome, patting her on the top of the head.

Hope in the face of hopelessness. It was a good thing to say, to have. Wesker came to stand outside the door and gave Renny a stare until he took the hint, switching to the backseat. She flipped the mirror down and watched Wesker's inevitable speech. His mouth opened and she smiled when Sherry halted words.

“We're not killing Chris, Wesker. You're not to do it again.”

“Everybody makes mistakes.”

Eva looked at the stature of the building housing two people she cared for. They would have to entrust Claire and Jake to them for the time being. Sad to see them hurt, the mental pain was worse. Saving Chris would save them from any further torture as well. The hospital grew smaller and Krauser entered the highway ramp. It wouldn't be too long before she saw those two again. She really was very fond of her friends.

Fixing her hair in the mirror, she resented the shadows below her eyes and shut the mirror away. Some cuts and bruises only made her appearance worse. She would have to explain the altered appearance to her children; lie she was feeling fine. Stretching the truth might be the wiser course of action for her insightful twins.

The drive time ticked on longer than four hours. She needed to leave this car. Thankfully Krauser veered off the highway a bit fast, leading them to the neighborhood her aunt resided. It was kind of everyone else to willingly divert the mission to include a stop at home for her.

“How old are Aly and Donovan?”

She looked out the window, rubbing her gifted diamond choker when she answered Renny. “Five, going on six.”

Eva thought of something and voiced the concern, eyes spacey. “They're not away from me often. Not for this long.”

The vehicle belonging to the DSO drove into the small driveway. Her kids were playing in the yard, throwing a ball at the wall of the garage. She would have swore that ball levitated in front of D for the briefest of seconds, but she had to be seeing things in her exhausted state. As Aly turned to look at them getting out of the car, thunder rumbled somewhere in the gathering clouds.

“Mommy!”

“Mommy! We missed you!”

Aly plowed into her a moment before Donovan did. “Oomph!”

“Don't go,” D declared, attaching himself to her back.

“Hey, guys.” Laughing, she straightened to full height. “What are you up to?”

Her girl smiled wide, retrieving the plastic ball. “Target practice.”

“Tar..get...” Renny scratched the side of his chin. “Where did you learn that?”

She looked at him in curiosity. “Hello.”

“Hi.”

Some of the others remained by the SUV stretching their limbs, however, along with Renny came Wesker and Rebecca.

“Mommy, are we going home?”

Donovan nuzzled his cheek on hers and she shut her eyes. He was sleepy. Probably due for a nap. She remembered the call from him.

“No. Um. D, do you remember when you used the telephone to call me?”

“Uh uh.”

She carried him to the front door where Natasha came out to stand on the small square porch. Worry etched into every line on her face. She'd want to have a discussion. There was no time for a discussion.

Eva crouched low to the ground and Donovan climbed off. Aly threw the ball hard at the wall one last time and then walked over. Rebecca and Wesker moved onto the short sidewalk connecting the driveway to the porch. Renny jogged to retrieve the ball which was heading for the street.

“You remember, dummy. Don't lie.”

“Hey. Don't call your brother names.”

“I forgot!” whined her boy. “We should go, Mom. I want to stay with you.”

“You can't right now. I have to do something. Listen to me.” She waited to make sure both were looking and listening. “You know the picture of Dad I showed you, yeah?”

Two heads nodding in the affirmative.

“The bad man you said was coming on the phone... Does the bad man look like Dad?”

Aly giggled. “No, silly. Daddy wouldn't be mean to us.”

“The bad man has eyes like Grandpa.”

Renny dropped the ball he'd been handing D at his declaration. He looked at Wesker. “What the hell, man? I thought you said you were the only one of 'em left.”

“I am.”

Rebecca frowned and folded her arms, resting the knuckles of one hand under her chin worryingly. As far as she knew, there were thirteen survivors of the ridiculously selective project that created her father the way he was now. Two of those thirteen survived the next stage of the experiment. Albert and Alex Wesker. Alex died later on an island where she was experimenting to discover the path to immortality as Spencer had wanted for himself.

“Well your certainty is maybe wrong.” He turned from Wesker to her. “You mean there could be another eugenics toting psycho out there?”

Albert Wesker was the only one left. Or at least he was supposed to be. Alex Archer. Alex. Could it be Archer was Alex Wesker? If that was true, the female Alex Barry Burton and Claire encountered was a fake. A fake put out there by the real person? Her dad believed she was one of them, like him. If female Alex was fake, she fooled even Wesker. It could explain the oddity of her being sick, of not gaining abilities and altered eyes as her dad did.

“Maybe,” she murmured, belatedly answering Renny.

She caught Al staring upward, concentrating. Lightning sparked across the sky dangerously low. Eva put her hands on their backs and gently guided them to their aunt and the house. Leon got out of the car.

“Eva, the dot stopped moving. We've got a location.”

Hugging them close, she kissed their foreheads. “Everything will be okay. We'll go home soon, I promise.”

Her focus had to be on Chris for now. She got in that car and refused to look back at her children. Sherry, Rebecca, and Billy were kind enough to wave until they were out of view. She could not. No one started conversation which was a relief. Rain fell, pattering the window she stared at without looking through. Eva wondered if Chris was some immortal warrior destined to fight and never die. It would be just his luck to fall into that most hated fate.

The drive was several hours to the location and she dozed off and on. Her body felt exhaustion to the extent she couldn't find real sleep. She didn't want it anyhow. She didn't deserve it. She gave up on Chris and he'd suffered all these long years. That's why she needed to get him back.

When the car slowed, she startled to something dropping in her lap. Renny looked at her apologetic and continued passing out the water bottles. Billy chugged his while she chose to sip a few times before screwing the cap on again. They exited the car in a staggered manner. Wesker was out first but hovered to grab her good arm and lean close.

“No unnecessary risks. No stupid acts based on the man you loved. Understood?”

“Fuck off!” she snapped, wrenching her arm away. “I'm not an idiot.”

Their group of eight approached the worn-down factory. Seemingly abandoned and left to rot, Eva wasn't buying. They spread out without really meaning to, studying two separate entrances in immediate sight. Billy ended the silence between them.

“Do we split up?”

“Do we wanna die?”

Leon disagreed with Renny's concern. “We've got this. We deal fast damage and Eva gets in his head again. That's the plan.”

“What if there's a Wesker in there?” Rebecca asked, sounding a bit confused about the idea of it.

“There's a Wesker right here.”

She watched him firmly take his place beside her and Leon took charge to divide the rest. He headed for the left-most door with Krauser, Rebecca, and Renny. Eva followed Billy, Sherry, and Wesker to the right. The door was locked until it wasn't, courtesy of a swift kick by her father. He waited for them to ready weapons and they went inside.

Eva assumed there would be exploring, a few rooms to pass through. Instead, they walked into a huge room with either clear space or shut off conveyor belts and machinery. And Chris. Chris was standing on a walkway above dressed in his usual black outfit and gear. She raised her stun gun, glancing at Billy who was carrying the Spark Shot. Sherry and Wesker had electric batons held steady.

“How did you find me?”

That wasn't Chris talking. She scanned the room for the owner of the voice.

“Ah, of course.” She found him standing on a different section of the walkway above. “Chris goes on significant tears when he's free of me.”

“You did something to him!” Sherry shouted up. “He doesn't know what he's doing!”

“You'd like to think that,” Alex replied, extending his arms in a showy manner while leering down toward them. “It's him who kills all those innocent people when he runs from me. He knows what he's doing. He just doesn't care.”

“Chris!” Eva yelled. “Chris, it's me!”

“Oh stop that, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself!” She focused on who mattered. “Chris!”

The man started meandering along the metal bridge, reveling in his words. “Chris is most destructive when he's not under my control. He wasn't controlled by my chemical when he attacked your little team. It's the viral carriers. He can sense them. Goes at them like a hound.”

Eva didn't want to hear this. It was already bullshit the situation felt like a repeat of when she got him back for mere seconds. She eyed him when he stopped moving, peering down in her and Wesker's direction. Sunglasses and the hat pulled low on his forehead prevented her from confirming if he was indeed a Project W survivor.

“Ignored your girl in my lab when the chemical quit affecting because she must be defective, broken. He doesn't see her as a threat, period. But you and your friend there,” he licked his lips, excited. “Very enticing. He'll try to kill you like a rabid dog. He will never stop.”

Sherry and Wesker exchanged glances before Sherry backed up and looked at Billy, who subtle as possible charged the weapon, aimed and fired. The shot hit Chris straight on, toppling him over the railing and to the floor below. Alex looked mildly annoyed.

“That was unkind, Bill.”

He swung himself over the side to join them on the bottom floor. Chris was standing and he blinked in Alex's direction, seeming confused. Without looking to acknowledge the stare, he waved an arm. This caused him to look harder, stumbling a moment in his lack of attention. Billy shot him a second time.

Alex lowered his arm. “Legend. Obey. Kill them.”

Eva rushed to lessen the distance between them. “Chris!”

She dropped the gun and held up a hand as if to greet him, uncertain what else to do. It had to be different this time. Her kids needed their father. She had to break through this time.

“Please..Chris, see me!”

Leon pushed open the same door they used, revealing rain had begun to pour heavy again. Something must have gone wrong with the entrance they intended to use, or maybe there was no access at a certain point. Chris's intimidating stance melted when he gasped, collapsing to his knee.

He looked in pain. He looked in a lot of pain. Tears threatened to swell and she fought them. Her eyes flickered to Wesker racing toward Alex who was on the move. Alex was attacking him so he was just meeting him halfway. Violence was about to explode and Sherry picked up her stun gun, shooting Chris.

“Sherry, no!”

Billy held off on firing another shot. Alex suddenly pulled a gun and fired shots designed to keep his attacker at bay. A second gun was removed from his boot and fired into Chris. It hit his arm. Leon surged forward, preparing to fight or defend against a drugged soldier. The others stayed at the wall, choosing to watch and see where they might be useful. Or so she guessed.

“Legend! At attention!”

The door remained open, bringing continuous sounds of rainfall. Chris disappeared on a day when it was raining. She thought of him more often when it was a downpour like this.

Despite his obedience, rage filled his face. “I've told you many times.”

Alex lowered his guns. “What did you say?”

“My name..is _CHRIS!_ ”

He ripped the needle dart out of his arm and crushed the glass casing in the fist formed. Dropping it, the quiet, seething rage grew visibly in his expression. His gaze swept deliberate across everyone in the room, landing on Alex last.

“I made you a promise six years ago, Alex.” His tone dripped disdain. “That one day I would put my knife in your skull.”

She felt such joy. It was _Chris_ again. Angrier, vicious. He came for his wannabe master in vengeance. Wesker stepped aside to let the two tangle and after a few moments, Alex managed to disengage to move onto the stairs behind him. He took a needle shot out of a belt pouch to reload the gun.

“You forget. I control you. _I'm_ in charge.”

Chris caught the damn thing before it could hit his neck. “You forget. You made your weapon better than you.”

Alex pulled his sunglasses off. A brief glimpse of fear in those inhuman eyes and confidence overcame it. So he was a Wesker survivor. The female Alex had to have been a fake planted by him. Meant he'd go to absurd lengths to cover whatever he was doing.

“Scared, Alex? I know you are,” he taunted, rather unlike Chris. “You created me. You know you cannot kill me. Should have been more careful choosing who you turned into a monster.”

Eva practically cheered when Chris curb-stomped the bastard once more. He stabbed his sword through Alex's abdomen, angled toward the chest. It was possible to appreciate his improved skills and speed while of his own mind. She was still worried, but felt in control now. He was free.

“I will kill you,” vowed Chris. “I promised.”

His enemy flipped the situation around in an instant. He grabbed Chris by the throat, compressing the carotid arteries to rob him of oxygen. He was taking away brain function to cease his assault. He drop kicked Chris from him, tugging the sword out. Chris hit the wall with great force. Rendered unconscious, his eyelids were half open and the eyeballs were rolled to the back of his head. It was a terrifying sight. She prayed he was okay.

Alex returned to the walkways, heading for a section shrouded in darkness. “You're too late!”

She didn't know what he meant and she didn't care. Krauser jogged forward and picked up the sword. Rebecca headed directly for the limp body of the man they came for. Her remaining allies began to gather. Alex fled, the coward, and she ran to be with Chris.


	10. Kill the Ones You Love

_Boulder Hospital, Boulder, Colorado_

She woke in a hospital bed she was not supposed to be in. Hooked up to an IV and a heart rate monitor, she understood she'd been admitted. Her dad was loitering by the window. He must have done it when she fell asleep in the truck curled in on the unconscious form of her husband. Still tired, she was feeling more balanced anyway.

“Asshole.”

“Good morning, Eva. It's been two days.”

“What?! Shit.”

Frustrated, she knew the facade was up. Wesker had been suspecting her flagging health for a while as they spent too much time together. One of the reasons to avoid him through the years. He'd have figured her out in a heartbeat. He'd judge her unfairly.

Speaking of heartbeat, she removed the pads one by one off her chest. She'd have to wash. Wesker moved from the window closer to the bed but did not try to stop her. He pressed a switch behind one of the monitors to silence the alarms and removed his sunglasses to meet her eyes properly. This _was_ serious.

“The doctors checked medical records to understand what was occurring with your odd stats. Your diagnosis is classified unknown, although the nature of the illness was identified as a previously unseen form of cancer. Cells in your body are eating away at you. In time, your organs will fail.”

She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, contemplating the IV needle. Normally she would rip it out with no second thoughts. Wesker wouldn't approve, which showed when he moved around to pull the line out himself. Her grumpiness got the better of her.

“They haven't discovered the R-Virus in case you're worried about that. Or its cure which is successful, only with a side effect of death.”

“Eva.”

“Okay. Technically with a side effect of a majorly shortened lifespan.”

Wesker placed the IV needle and tubing on the pillow, applying pressure to the removal site. “Why wouldn't you tell me you were terminally ill? I could research a solution, a cure. You don't have to die. Is this some self-fulfilling prophecy?”

She couldn't hold in the laugh. “You gotta be kidding. You think this is some guilt-tripping? Redemption doesn't equal death, no matter how many morons seem to think that.”

“Has your primary doctor given you a prognosis?”

Her fingers became very fascinating. “The official report? In a year my body will display symptoms of viral rejection. I have maybe three years left. Maybe.”

Despair threatened to emerge and she swallowed it down with the ever-present grief. Finally finding Chris alive and hopefully okay was amazing. It didn't change anything though. She was still dying. Her kids would be left with an aging relative, a soon to be dead mother, and a probable psychologically scarred father who they never met. Yep, the future was just going to be the best.

Wesker's features softened, less judgmental, more care. “He hasn't woken yet, if that's what you're wondering.”

“Is he okay?”

“Physically, he'll be fine.”

“Is he still going to be all,” she drew mimed lines of dark veins from neck to cheek. “Uh, different?”

“The chemical has left his body, along with the formula making him the weapon he was crafted to be.”

She considered as she pulled her arm from his grasp. “Does that mean he's human?”

His eyebrows rose while he put the sunglasses back on. “I procured blood samples to determine his infection level. I would presume the variant R-Virus is his body's default. I cannot confirm at this time.”

“Ugh. Talk to me about something else.” She surveyed the room for her clothes. “How's everyone else? Have they been released?”

“They have. They're due to arrive in the afternoon. Plenty of time to feed you.”

“Mm. Lunch. Let's. I'm starving.”

“It's morning.”

“It's time to visit Chris first I'd say,” Eva muttered, distractedly watching two familiar people walk by her room. “He might be awake.”

Forgetting her clothes, she paused to slide into a pair of white slippers. Out the door, she peeked in either direction before heading after the government employees who insisted on keeping this case. They should leave the investigation to her and the team brought together. It would be ideal for their health.

Her dad followed her into a room around the corner where the agents went inside. It was Chris's room as she thought, and he was awake as she hoped. Krauser was sitting in the corner behind the partially shut door seeming relaxed, but she knew he was perched to attack if required. Leon stood by the side of the bed, lowering the cup and straw in his hands to set on the table.

Eva moved to the foot of the bed, Nivans and Harper choosing to stand on the side of the bed opposite Leon. They looked prepared for an interview, for questioning. He wouldn't be arrested, would he? He was technically guilty of his crimes. He committed those crimes when he wasn't in his right mind. That meant they'd release him into secure custody, right? She would never let them quarantine him. He wasn't infectious. He wasn't a danger anymore. He'd be him again.

“Chris.”

He didn't look at her, nor her direction. Avoidance was understandable. Eva's stomach clenched from the hurt of it anyhow. She loved him. She wanted to express she was here for him and cared so much. The agents stared between them as if waiting to hear what conversation they'd hold. They were shit out of luck then.

Acting like wandering away a few feet to sit in an available chair was what she wanted to do, she did that. Chris rested against the pillows more, staring ahead. Wesker positioned to look at him. He stepped backward and leaned on the wall, arms folding, continuing to stare with impunity. The shades made his intrigue less obvious, to an outsider perhaps.

“I'm Agent Harper and this is my partner, Captain Nivans. We're with the Division of Security Operations. Can you state your name for us, please?”

His stare switched to the lumps beneath the blanket that were his knees. “Chris Redfield.”

“Our job is to ascertain culpability, Mr. Redfield. Whatever you can give us to lead to an end to the fear plaguing this country, would be beneficial to your cause.”

Silence. Agent Harper tapped her pen to the pad in hand. “Alex Archer is priority number one. We've released a description to every agency. He gets apprehended, guy practically running the entire black market of bio-weaponry, there won't be many more questions after that. You understand?”

Krauser chuckled from the corner. “It's a mad world. Been that way for some time.”

“Are you familiar with Nietzsche's work at all?” Captain Nivans asked Chris. “Because the issue in these cases lends to a popular quote.”

They seemed to understand he was another victim, not a perpetrator worth punishing. Eva believed his past record could attest to Chris Redfield's good nature and strength of character. He was worth saving, even to those who were strangers.

“I won't get it exact, but it goes something along these lines. Should you fight monsters, you should take care not to become one yourself. You spend too long looking into the abyss, it'll see you right back.”

“We can't go back,” Chris murmured to the sheets.

Harper looked annoyed at her partner and struggled to pay sole attention to the admitted patient. “Mr. Redfield?”

The military one of the pair moved off from the bedside toward Leon. “Going by what we know, if you think you freed Chris, you freed Legend too.”

“That's not helpful, Piers.” Harper attempted to salvage the questioning. “We've been made aware a chemical was used to control you. Something similar was uncovered in a prior case. I believe you were friends with the woman, old partners. A Ms. Valentine.”

Silence. Stare. Right. Eva started toying with the hospital gown she forgot she was wearing until then.

“If there's anything you could tell us? Anything we could use to find the man who hurt you?”

He wasn't talking. He didn't appear interested in his surroundings. His eyes were dulled.

Nivans wrapped up the visit. “Upon release from the hospital, you're free to go for now, in a manner of speaking. DSO Agent Kennedy will be charged with your supervision. Don't make me regret it.”

It was surprising considering how Captain Nivans sounded in regards to Chris moments earlier. His tune now seemed trusting. Unexpected but she was thankful. Her father put a hand on her shoulder and she found her clothes passed to her. Rebecca jumped in to assist, appearing at the door in the nick of time to stop the pile falling. The jacket was a bit weighty.

Rebecca signaled the arrival of the other two, one wheelchair bound and the other pretty immobile as well. A short visit with Chris and they went for lunch in the cafeteria. It was dragged out. Separation from the unblemished, yet internally damaged man temporarily eased their souls. Once the break they allotted themselves was over, they were able to return to the hospital room feeling united. They left the hospital after Chris was discharged in the late afternoon.

The car hardly began motion when Chris asked for them to make a stop before arriving at the house provided to be their shelter. Leon had a couple rich acquaintances who felt they owed favors for help he'd given in the past. The extra stop wasn't a problem. The cemetery wasn't far from the hospital. They wouldn't disappoint Chris on a thing this easy anyway.

His resignation to be told what to do, when to do it, had been discouraging. Eva was delighted he made a request. A depressing request was better than nothing. She admittedly was also riding the high of Chris's release when she was sure they'd keep him from her, unfairly locked away.

Eva, Claire, and Leon went with him while Krauser waited in the car. They were family. Leon had to assist his soon-to-be wife. With her injuries, she would be doing more resting than walking around in the coming days. Today wasn't that day though, not yet.

Chris sank to his knees, appraising his own grave. It was quiet, no words exchanged. She tried to read his face. The effort only let her hate herself when she inevitably couldn't. He had blank eyes pretty much always.

She knelt at his side, just waiting for anything.

“I thought it would be strange to see my own gravestone. A proven lie.”

“I'm sorry, Chris,” she said, straining to stifle her emotions.

“The world never changes.”

Eva choked on her tears and it pissed her off. She was never this emotional. Motherhood changed a lot of things.

“What do you do when you cross lines you never thought you'd cross? Done things you never imagined because it was terrible. Can you come back? Can you ever come back?”

This was the first time he was talking to her. The distance was perceivable despite the lack of actual physical distance, but she'd take what she could get.

“Of course you can, Chris. You did.” She was useless. Maybe she should wait in the car. “I... I should have fought for you.”

She was crying. Thought the tears were long dried and finished. Life was excellent at bringing fresh feelings. Any moment old memories could seem new and raw. Life could really blow.

Eva stood up when he did. Claire and Leon were standing behind them, waiting patiently. He continued to be entranced by his grave marker.

“I _am_ buried here.”

“Chris?” Claire looked at him in concern. “It's okay if you're not okay. Are you okay?”

He smiled. All mouth, no eyes. “Don't worry for me. There's a whole world to worry over.”

Effort counted?

Eva punched his shoulder with the one good hand she had. “You're not responsible for the things they made you do.”

“The past is past,” he replied, agreeable. “The future is our..responsibility.”

Chris didn't really look, offering more of a glance to her. He headed back the way they came. No look as he left to indicate awareness of their feelings, of their love for him. He could never forget what he meant to them. He remembered all that, right?

“Claire, he's not fine,” Leon whispered loud so Eva could hear too.

“Never saying it was okay because we knew it wasn't. He still remembers that. He's still like that. That's my brother.”

The three of them observed Chris walking the rest of the way to the car. There was silence for the duration and Leon stood in between the two women a moment. Eva could sense he didn't desire to say what he was going to, but he was going to say it.

“You can't always trust what people say.”

Claire turned, expression hard. “Leon.”

He kissed her cheek and moved on to the car, completing what he had to say. “And that includes Chris.”

They got in the car and drove onward to meet the other half of the team. She was tired in spite of her lengthy sleep at the hospital. Sherry showed her where she was sleeping and she quickly showered before lying down. Naturally her brain had to light up with insufferable anxieties which prevented sleep for hours.

After the first night, she decided the home they'd been put in was gorgeous. Something she could never afford. If she was honest, this kind of house wasn't something she would buy. Smaller meant cozier to her. Eva entered the library where Chris spent most of his time. He still didn't talk to her, or anybody really.

He sat among numerous books scattered in the area surrounding him. Hours were spent going through these books. Leon and Claire were sitting together fake reading while on Chris babysitting duty. Agent Kennedy had to assume full responsibility should acts of terrorism be committed by the released into custody suspect. Basically, they needed someone to blame for past attacks, New York specifically. Unless they got that from someone else, it would all get blamed on the victim they had in conditional custody.

Wesker walked past the door and she controlled the glare appearing. Her father didn't come in. It was likely he knew she was there and thinking she would rather he stayed out. Chris would talk to Wesker when prompted by his old enemy. He seemed drawn to seek comfort from that jerk over her. She told herself it was because of their now shared experience as global terrorists. She told herself it was the shared history working as teammates in the former special organization based out of Raccoon City. Truth was, she had no idea why he preferred Wesker's company above anybody else. Maybe she shouldn't know.

“End of pain is pleasant,” Chris whispered to himself.

Billy strolled in smiling broadly. Picture of positive energy to contrast Chris's lethargy and choice for solitude. It wasn't working for his target, but she appreciated the thought. Everyone else could use happiness while they figured their next move. Eva matched his step to approach Chris with him. She had a hard time attempting to bother the man alone. Since they saved him, he was just so despondent.

He stood and dropped a book on the table in front of them. “A lot of these stories end tragic. They don't get their happy endings. Sometimes you do something to stop the world from turning into a monster.”

Billy tilted his head to read the book covering and she copied to see. _Dream's End._ She wasn't familiar with that one. The man beside her kept his smile on.

“Good read?”

“Good? No.”

Chris looked her in the eye and then started for the doors. Leon and Claire slowly stood but Eva waved them off. She and Billy could babysit, stupid as that felt to do for the heroic former team leader. He went to the bathroom, where they did not follow, and his room second. They avoided going inside with him too. Nivans might have ordered they lay eyes on at all times, but they had no intention to do that to their friend.

Next he hung about the kitchen for no discernible reason. Billy greeted his wife seated on a stool at the counter, who cheerfully looked up from her laptop to wave. The woman appeared even happier seeing Chris among them. Movement of some sort was supposed to be good, right?

Eva hoped he would eat; he didn't. She hoped he would speak to her, something real. No such luck. Jake wheeled in to sit at the table, asking for food. Sherry and Wesker were with him. Chris walked up to her while she lingered near the refrigerator with Rebecca, pondering aloud what they should cook for lunch.

He bent to kiss her like she dreamed so many times. It was exactly as she imagined and nothing like it at the same time. Eva shifted to her tiptoes to ease the strain in her neck, gripping the front of his shirt and kissing him back. The kiss was tender and full of love. She wasn't certain she actually recalled how it was kissing him or if she merely convinced herself she could.

So stunned, it took her a moment to open her eyes when she lost her grasp. He had gone. She looked at Wesker, who looked back before moving to sit at the table by Jake. Billy was frowning, shaking his head in slow puzzlement. He seemed to be working something out. She thought what that could be and she just knew.

“Billy, what's wrong?”

Eva didn't want to be right. It was the last thing she wanted. Her heart felt like it was pounding, lungs panic breathing audibly. They brought Chris to safety, but he wasn't well in the head. His behavior in the hospital, how he was at the cemetery... It was the true reason they listened to Captain Nivans's order to watch the freed prisoner. He barely spoke to them and when he did it was worrisome.

“How do you stop the world from turning into a monster?” Billy asked.

Claire dragged herself across the wall to move faster to the kitchen. “Where's Chris? It looked like he was driving a van away from here!”

Leon came to stand beside her. “Does anyone have eyes on?”

She closed her eyes. They protected him for a few days. How pathetic was that? Chris was gone. They let Legend out after all. They'd have to stop him to save him.


	11. The Sin of Man

_Vancouver, Canada_

Boring. Quarantine had been extremely boring. The Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance lab insisted on a wide array of tests due to her known and unknown exposures to viruses at Wesker's hands. Then the day came the organization faced investigation and shut down. To her horror, the BSAA was infiltrated on all levels by Umbrella Corporation over the years, possibly since its inception. Her eagerness to get back out into the field dwindled and she was transferred into the care of a CDC facility. The rehabilitation process took years and she grew more and more fearful of the possibility of ever returning to active duty. With what organization? With whom would she partner? Good and bad memories haunted her days. Thoughts and dreams would plague her of becoming infected like she had been in Raccoon City.

There was the added issue of concealing her survival from almost everyone she knew. The government spent years making absolutely certain she was no longer a threat after the things she did under the influence of a control drug. She was unconscious for a lot of her captivity, which was their primary concern since she couldn't tell them everything that might have transpired. It was ideal in her opinion, to be unconscious in a tube healing and experimented on, as opposed to enduring Wesker's presence while awake.

The people within the government who knew she was alive kept that fact to themselves. They concealed the actual reason behind the BSAA phase out and dismantling, so revealing nothing about her existence was child's play. She needed time to recover physically and mentally, and asked a friend to help her out. She'd been constantly thinking about the decision lately. Perhaps not so much lately. When the news reached her Chris had died, she regretted hiding away from the world and people who cared for her. She let them mourn her, believing her dead. It wasn't right.

Canada was a pretty great place to live; she couldn't complain. It could be fairly boring though. Living with a family and working as a crisis counselor via telephone hadn't been the plan. The job let her remain in the privacy of the house and she would help people like she wanted. That line of work also felt fitting in her present state of mind and state of living. It was nice, but for two years now she'd been thinking how she was avoiding truly living because she wasn't certain what to do.

Time just got away from her. Before she knew it she was in her forties wondering what the hell happened. She couldn't blame it on Wesker, who saved her life to use her for his experiments and to hurt Chris, stealing years from her. She couldn't blame the government agencies who kept her on indefinite quarantine for a long time out of distrust, taking more precious time. Nor could she blame it on Chris's death freezing her in place for a while, causing her to second-guess everything. Nobody to blame for her own inability to figure out how to live.

Staring out the bedroom window, she decided to take the day off. The phone counselor employment allowed her to choose her own hours and she would call in when she was ready to receive calls from service users. It meant she didn't have to do a thing to leave the day to herself. The weather was beautiful. She could go for a walk in the park or to the nearby coffee shop.

There came a knock on the door.

“Yeah?” she prompted, rising from the desk chair to peer in the mirror while doing up her hair in a ponytail quick.

“It's Polly. Can I come in?”

“Yeah. Come in.”

The young woman opened the door and stepped inside her bedroom. She wore a white t-shirt with colorful printing, blue jeans, and sneakers. Her long hair was dyed a brighter blonde than its natural state. She looked very much like her mother.

“I've got some readings to do for class. Thought we could grab coffee together and talk beforehand. Wanna?”

It was a bit of a routine for her and Polly to make trips to the coffee shop once she began a caffeine habit that commenced with entering college. Kathy thought it was a “mature” phase. Whether the supposition was accurate or not, the addiction stuck. It had to be weird her best friends were in their twenties. Oh well.

“Okay, I'll go with you.”

She searched for her blue zip-up. May was mild weather here but she preferred to be prepared. Going through hellish survival situations on multiple occasions tended to instill that habit in a person. Slipping her arms through the sleeves, she zipped it and grabbed her blue baseball cap. Wearing hats, another habit.

They left the room together and she shut the door behind them. Descending the stairs, she wondered where Moira was at. She'd been staying there for the last few weeks until her new apartment in America was in order. She should return to America and try and find whatever closest resembled the old life she used to have. God, what was she even talking about?

Passing through the hallway and by the kitchen and living room, she noticed the television was muted. She could hear voices in the dining room. Kathy wasn't home and it couldn't be Moira because the two voices were male. Backtracking to the kitchen opening, she peered across the room and saw the retired family man seated at the dining table looking at someone standing out of sight from her viewpoint. He seemed bothered.

“Barry. What is it?”

The older man met her gaze, uneasy. “Jill. You have a visitor.”

No governments with affiliations of any kind paid her a visit, gave a call, or sent an e-mail or mail in five years. Besides Barry and his family, she lived a solitary existence. Moira hadn't told Claire about her being alive, and that was tough for the sassy woman. She desired honesty and keeping something from a friend didn't sit well. But then, the woman joined TerraSave against her father's wishes so..it was all relative.

She moved into the kitchen and circled the counter to maintain distance between the visitor she knew she wasn't going to approve. Barry's stiff demeanor said it all. Curious, Polly walked over to sit with her dad. Jill gazed coldly at her “visitor”.

“What are you doing here?”

The man turned fully to look in her direction. “Jill, how are you?”

“What do you want?”

Why would he use generic pleasantries? Why would he behave as if he wasn't her enemy? Why show his face, period? She hated him personally, and everything he represented. He had to know that.

Polly ran fingers through her hair. “Who are you?”

He ignored her, keeping his eyes fixed on Jill. All manners, that one. Still an asshole. No surprise there.

“How did you know I was alive? How did you know where to find me?”

“A conversation between the eldest Burton girl and the youngest Redfield in..2011. Claire didn't comprehend what was almost revealed, but I connected the dots. Her new friend, someone her father used to work with, coming to live with her and her family when she was free to come. Well, she sounded an awful lot like you, Jill.”

“Why are you here? Are you still trying to pick up Umbrella's ashes?”

“Umbrella was finished years ago. This is a problem for the present. I've come to ask for your help.”

“Oh that's rich,” Barry uttered, snickering. “Need help finding a prison cell?”

“How's retirement treating you, Barry? Driving your better half crazy yet?”

“Shut it, Wesker!”

“Wesker,” Jill interrupted before they could start a fight she wasn't interested in watching. “Tell us why you're here or get out.”

“The world's in danger of ending. The others don't realize how serious the situation is. They will. Too late, most likely.”

“Cut the crap,” Barry said testily. “Why come all this way to see Jill? Why?”

“This is your chance,” he said to her, smiling a little. It was insincere. “You're his oldest ally. He always counted on you, trusted you.”

“What are you saying, Wesker?” she demanded, patience run out.

He adjusted his jacket collar. “Chris is alive.”

Jill put her back to him and studied the sink. There were dishes from breakfast yet to be rinsed, coated in grease and egg residue. Switching on the faucet, she let the water fall over a hand. She spent a decade making peace with putting her old life and past experiences behind her.

It was complex to escape. Storms and rain made her think of Spencer Mansion more than she ever thought of the night inside the same man's other estate eight years later. Crows reminded of the night that changed her life forever. A person in passing could be mistaken for a zombie if she zoned out or became distracted and caught off guard. She survived and fought through so many nightmares, often without experiencing any repercussions like loss of sleep. The choice to move on was what did her in.

Regret was a bitch.

“Why would you come here?” she heard Polly question. “You're upsetting Jill. What do you want?”

Realizing the cold water was on, she switched to warm, setting the plug in the drain. She picked up the bottle of dish soap and squirted some. There was a dishwasher but she'd just wash these by hand. She preferred doing things herself. Why didn't she return to an organization where she could go in the field and help against bioweapon threats?

Jill reached for the first plate. “Did it have anything to do with Umbrella?”

“Did what?” Wesker inquired.

“Whatever happened to make Chris disappear for more than half a decade.”

A temporary pause and then, “Yes.”

The food remnants came clean off the plate with the soapy sponge. “How?”

No hesitation this time. “We've discovered there was another Project W survivor aside from myself. The Alex Wesker that Barry and Moira encountered on the island turns out to be an impostor. The true Alex is a man and he has identical ambitions to the late Oswell Spencer.”

“He abducted Chris?” Barry wheezed out, sounding stunned. “What for?”

Jill set the clean plate aside and picked up the next to be washed. “Claire knows?”

“She was helping us find him. We've-”

She let the plate and sponge slip into the bubbly water and shut off the tap, bracing herself on the counter with both hands. “It's still the same! One of you Umbrella fucks become greedy for power and Chris goes out there and gets hurt.”

“Chris intends to do the harm this time.”

“Are you still trying to be Umbrella, Wesker?” Jill asked, resuming the dish washing. “Still trying for global domination? Is that what this is?”

“You may not believe I can change, but Chris has changed and it's you who can stop him. I don't know if there's anyone else who could succeed.”

Once there was a man who called himself Sin. He was a clone of a child kidnapped by Umbrella for their own despicable purposes. The corporation called him Dante and intended him to be a weapon which backfired. She later heard of a second clone named Melody who escaped their manipulation for a while, but Jill never met her. In 2009, she met Sin when he faked her death and held her captive.

She passed out from exhaustion and woke to have Sin taunt how he caused everyone to see her dying. He thought it particularly hilarious the pain her old partner felt watching her die. Sin displayed astonishing illusion ability, unbelievable to her eyes. It was real though, and he seemed an odd type. Acting cold the majority of the time in words he said, his actions were choices to show her benevolent things. He showed her dead friends happy and at peace, like they were simply popping in to say hello from the other side. He'd reveal Raccoon City whole and buzzing with life. Jill figured out he was showing her what she wanted to see, a favorite trick of his.

“Wasn't there a girl he cared for? What about his sister? What about the other people he worked with? Chris has people who care about him, who cared enough to be close to him. I'm not that person anymore.”

“Jill, hold on now,” Barry started.

People were selfish and took care of their own needs above others. Chris wasn't one of them. He was amazing to sacrifice his entire being to the fight against the monsters of the world. She always assumed Sin kept her alive and in captivity in case he had a use for her eventually. A use he never got around to. Chris's captor might have believed the same but did get around to it.

Josh Stone rescued her from the Kijuju Autonomous Zone, saved her life. Even in his heartbreak over Sheva Alomar's betrayal and death, he fought side by side with her to escape safely on a convoy. Even in Jill's heartbreak, she owed Chris everything.

Jill put the plate on the pile and turned around. “Where is he?”

“Don't you wish to know details? Why he's gone mad?”

Drying her hands with the towel laying beside the sink, she smiled lightly. “I'm sure you'll explain everything on the way. And people are the reason, almost certainly. They constantly really suck.” She folded her arms across her chest. “For now, where is he?”

Her determination was solidifying. She met Barry's concerned gaze which softened when he understood she had this. Friends trust friends. Polly appeared appropriately puzzled and she went to place her hand on the nape of the woman's neck to reassure.

“Rain check on the coffee, okay?”

“Promise?”

She smiled. “Promise.”

Polly stood and meandered to the kitchen area. Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she started thumbing on the screen. Wesker shifted in a manner which drew her attention. He pushed his glasses farther up the bridge of his nose. This fucking bastard had chosen to rely solely on her help.

“You don't know.”

Reluctance to admit his ignorance delayed the confirmation. “I don't know where he is at the moment.”

Barry made a noise and adjusted himself in the chair. “So we think about what he's after to find where he'd go.”

“He's overwhelmed. I believe he wants to make it all stop.”

She gave consideration to the exact wording used. “He was treated like you treated me, is that right?”

Disgust flickered on his face before he cleared it of emotion. “No. He has said nothing concerning his time held against his will, but from what we know, his treatment was much worse.”

Jill's years were unconsciousness, not knowing what experiments were performed on her body, and awareness utilized as a human puppet for Excella Gionne's assistance and amusement. She was forced to hurt innocent people, to condemn them to Plaga implantation and death, and to fight Chris. That was the sort of thing which haunted her days or nights often enough. Actions she couldn't control bringing harm to others. Wesker said what Chris went through was worse. She didn't want to know that, and had to know it, too.

“Was he put under the influence of a control drug, like you did to me?”

Nothing in his composure revealed what he was thinking or feeling. “Yes.”

“Guilt, remorse, pain...”

Wesker looked at her. “His had an amnesia effect. Drug-induced or trauma-induced. No matter. He's remembering now.”

“Everything?” Jill glanced away and then back. “I'm guessing he's not handling it. I could feel bad in the moment, whether that lessened the responsibility I felt later, I don't know. But to feel all the feelings that come with horrible memories like those... He wants to stop them.”

“By what means?” pondered Wesker aloud.

She crossed her arms, leaning away from the man. “Depends. I don't know what he's thinking, but the Chris I know helps people. He stops terrorists from hurting them.”

Barry grunted. “What if those two things come into conflict?”

Jill turned toward him. “Mixed up? Huh.” She looked at Wesker. “Is it possible he'd want to shut out the world, or fix it, or whatever he's doing..by ending it?”

“A global infection? Perhaps.”

“You're the one who said Chris was up to no good,” Barry said, disgruntled. “You had to know he's planning something like that to come all the way out here to bring Jill to him. You don't think his own sister could stop him?”

“I know his own sister could not pull the trigger if it comes to that.”

“You could.”

“Yes, I could but for the bleeding hearts who have asked me not to kill him. Don't you desire saving dear Chris?”

“You know we do,” Barry declared, annoyed and impatient.

Jill realized. “You came to get me because you think I really am capable of saving him. And you want him saved.”

Barry looked between them repeatedly, incredulous stare landing on Wesker. “You care?!”

Wesker outwardly displayed displeasure. “When I had designs for global infection, I intended to do it by air with the use of a bomber. Perhaps he might use a freighter and then aircraft, as I would have done, and as Archer has been known to use freighters for reasons.”

“Archer?” Barry frowned, squinting at the man. “What freak is this now?”

“Archer is Alex,” Wesker replied dismissively, continuing to look to Jill and angling for better line of sight from his corner. “I'm certain. He'll make his move by air, but he won't use a plane. He has a..unique method of flight. However, it isn't one ideal for international flight.”

The expression and gestures from Barry behind Wesker's back nearly brought a grin to her face. She touched the brim of her baseball cap before letting the hand fall to her side.

“So, what? Would he try for a specific area to make an attack?”

Polly spoke up and Jill almost jolted, forgetting the girl was there.

“He can't go to the center of the world to spread the virus. It's a virus, right? I mean, it's basically always a virus, yeah?” She was tapping away on her phone. “I don't know if it matters to go to the center of where you wanna infect for maximum exposure, but I'd think it would help, or be more..poetic, symbolic for someone, who knows. Anyway, what I'm saying is, if he's staying in the country, maybe he'd go to the center of that.”

She raised her phone up to the three of them, screen showing a map of the United States. One state in particular was highlighted and a dot indicated the specific location selected. If this was time sensitive, they better hope they knew Chris as well as they thought they did.

The youngest Burton wore a big smile. “Anyone have their ruby slippers ready?”

Barry grinned proudly. “That's my girl.”


	12. Nova

_Outside Lebanon, Kansas_

A warm breeze whispered across her skin. The air was dry, a lot of the grass was dry too. Skies were clear and the sun beamed down, feeling like it was specifically aiming to make her blind. She'd estimate the temperature was in the eighties. Standing amid green grass in a field, she looked to the gravel road and rental car parked much farther back. Jill thought a quiet approach best.

“Jill, do you see anything?” Barry asked, coming to stand by her shoulder.

“No, but he's here.” She just knew.

Wesker used his accelerated speed to arrive at the spot they stood. “The village is derelict. Everyone's dead.”

She felt tears prick her eyes.

Barry was shocked. “Chris killed them?”

“I don't believe so.”

They both twisted to look hard at Wesker, who shrugged one shoulder. “The population was a little over two hundred and from the state of things, they'd been infected with C-Virus for quite some time.”

Frowning, she started fast walking toward the village. “He killed the infected, but it isn't a good thing.”

“Correct,” Wesker confirmed. “They were consumed. By his wolf, and therefore him. It's essentially the same.”

“It is?” Barry asked, clearly viewing the other man as undependable.

While they were updated on things during the flight, Wesker seemed to occasionally spout new information. She wouldn't be surprised if there was a lot he wasn't telling them. She ran a matter of seconds, stopping the moment she saw the wolf emerging from behind a house in the near village. It was the size of a house itself. A monstrous creature..with wings folded to the backside.

Her eyes were only for Chris when she saw him. He was closer to them, standing next to a tree. The tree was by a pyramid-shaped monument with a brass plaque. An American flag atop the monument was still for the moment. He noticed them about when he noticed two cars approaching on the road. The large vehicles were moving fast, wheels kicking up dust. Chris stepped onto the bench, spreading his arms and peering skyward.

The wolf halted travel, howling into the sky. A sky accumulating dark clouds blackening unnaturally. Jill had zero idea how they were doing it. She wondered whether consumption of C-Viral blood gave him such powers or he injected himself with the special dosage Alex Wesker created for his Legend project.

Why he would do either was the concern. Jagged lightning flickered across the sky, thunder rumbling. The cars drove onto the grass, heading straight for Chris's position. Had to be Rebecca and her vigilante team, not receiving support from the U.S. government, but not receiving any obstruction. She closed the physical distance between them, all the while thinking how tough it would be to reach him in a meaningful way.

“Chris!”

Her timing was bad. Thunder sounding directly overhead blocked her shout. She diverted attention to the cars as they stopped some yards off yet, doors opening. Tension in the air, complete lack of wind, the deafening storm without rain covered the sky in their immediate area. It felt like something building, an increasing danger.

“No! Keep back!” She looked at Wesker. “Don't let them appear threatening!”

He moved away to pass on her message, or so she hoped. From the photos Wesker shared off his phone, she recognized Jack Krauser approaching along with Eva Wesker. When Wesker reached them, Claire was getting out, needing Leon's assistance. Jill heard of her injury and that she shouldn't be moving around. But it was Chris. No explanation necessary.

However, Chris had some explaining to do.

“Chris!”

It went better this time. He turned to look at her, away from studying Krauser and Eva. Jill could see the blood tainted with virus coursing through his veins, creeping above his low shirt collar to the edges of his face. His own virus amplified by the particular drug, created glowing green irises. Blood-laced lips and more red where it trailed down his chin and shirt when he..drank out of people? He looked like somebody she might have to put down if he was too far gone.

“We can't save them!” Chris yelled at her before lowering the volume since they were separated by a mere three yards. “It's better this way.”

“Save who, Chris?”

“Everyone from their pain. Everything must change to end it.”

Thunder interrupted part of the reply but she thought she heard him question her presence. Maybe she just wished he did. She treated it as though he was curious to her living when she was believed dead.

“I am alive, Chris. It's me. Sin made me look like I was dying and dead when I wasn't. He was a monster who hurt a lot of people. You're nothing like him. You stopped him in the end, don't you remember? Chris, what are you doing?”

“Why are you here, Jill? You can't stop us. Go.”

“Why should I go if your goal is to just infect everybody?”

He looked upward again. “The world must be unified. We will unify in death.”

“That makes no sense!” Barry yelled. “Think about it! You're lost in despair. But it isn't all futile. It's not the end!”

Chris raised an arm and a lightning bolt struck the power line, almost showering them in sparks. The pole splintered and broke in half, lines breaking free and collapsing to the earth. Wesker shared suspicion Chris retained a sample of his dosage. But maybe he used it on the mutated wolf with spreading wings. Her former partner frequently looked toward the wolf as if he couldn't help looking, like he needed to. They had the same green eyes glowing. What if they were connected?

“Chris, do you feel anything?”

He stared at her.

“Sad? Angry? Happy? Anything?”

She glanced toward Eva, who appeared eager to speak but was holding it in. She knew the plan as well as Jill did. Jill was his oldest friend; someone he always trusted.

“Is the animal your friend, Chris? Do you communicate?”

He rotated his arm to point at the wolf. “Nova is with me. He feels for me. And it hurts.”

“See! You _are_ feeling. But you're drowning, Chris. You feel suffering and pain because you've been suffering and in pain. That's not all you feel though. Nova is preventing you from feeling what you should.”

“Look around! Corruption is everywhere. The wealthy, politicians... We need to purge everyone to save them. Death ends it. It'll be quiet again.”

“Chris! You aren't feeling, are you?” Eva asked, crying silent tears. “You shut off your emotions. It's why your behavior is..just wrong! That wolf! Nova lets you do it, am I right? But it's impossible to change completely. You're you, asshole! Wake up!”

His bland expression didn't falter. “Nova's eaten. We're ready.”

Jill felt dread and acted on it. “Everyone, keep back!”

Leon figured out the growing danger. “Stay back! That animal's infectious!”

Krauser moved in when the wolf began rising into the black sky. Lightning flickered, thunder boomed. Its howl emerged in a roar. The air continued to feel so dry, still, foreboding.

She was impressed and irritated witnessing the mercenary climb a wing to get thrown on a furry back. He had a knife out and did his best to run for the head of the creature. Krauser was buying time. The creature was the key to this potential outbreak scenario. Nova would release the virus from skin pores. They witnessed a translucent orb surround the animal. A pulsating outline signaling a charge which would complete and burst.

The knife seemed to stab into the neck of the wolf, and with a head toss Krauser was thrown off. Sharp teeth chomped at him, creature lunging in reaction to the wound. He was effective at distraction anyway. She settled on how time was running out and it was on her to save everybody.

“You're our only hope to survive this!” Jill shouted at Chris.

“It's a way to be truly free.”

She should have seen it from the beginning. “You have to feel. Not only bad, but the good too.”

Nova ascended, hovering aloft, waiting. For Chris? He hopped off the bench and strode toward the creature, answering her speculation. Jill drew her gun. It'd been a long time since using one. She was confident she could respond per past experiences. She aimed.

“I'll put one right between the eyes.”

Chris stopped moving, turning to her. She took a page out of his book and betrayed no emotion.

“I'm not going to argue or barter or fight with you. If there's nothing of the real Chris left, then there's no point.”

He started forward, menacing, calling her bluff. A bullet skimmed his eye, bloodying the socket and causing it to clamp shut. He'd barely dodged it. Jill switched her cold gaze to Barry standing a couple yards behind, gun still aimed. He met her eyes. He didn't look apologetic, although remorse was evident as he lowered the weapon.

Jill searched for Chris's eyes, or, eye. “If my Chris is inside...” She smiled kindly. “You always used to say, as long as there's something worth fighting for, you'd fight. If you won't even fight for yourself, then Legend wins. Alex wins. Your friends will die. Your family will die. Everyone you've protected and fought for your entire life will suffer. If you're no longer any of the Chris I know and love, I'm going to shoot you.”

“You won't.”

“I have to!” she burst out, desperate it was almost too late.

His eye darkened. “I've seen the depravity of humanity. The true face of it. I'll see it gone!”

“You sound like Wesker.”

“I've done more harm than Wesker ever has. There's no redemption for me.”

It sounded as though he was suicidal, not ready to end it for the whole damn world. If Nova amplified emotions, a single depressive episode could lead to psychosis, and apparently the desire to end the planet's population. Interpreting his words literally, he seemed to believe Wesker had been redeemed, or could be? That had to mean he wasn't without hope, despite his world-ending endeavor here.

Jill glared. “That's crap. You're not a helpless zombie or some other infected beyond saving. You're still human, a person. No one's ever too far gone to come back, to be better. The ones people say aren't worth it, those people are just people who gave up. If they want, there's always a way back.”

He stared, unblinking. “For what?”

His confusion sounded genuine. Her heartbreak was absolute. This was so much worse than when he struggled to wake her from P30 control. She couldn't control her actions but knew what she was doing. With him, he could control his actions but didn't know what he was doing, and didn't realize that was the truth. Not entirely.

“To do the right thing, Chris. Like always. It's what we do.” She smiled through her tears. “Don't you trust your partner?”

Nova landed heavily, shaking the ground. Growling at Krauser, who moved back gripping a combat knife in either hand which he'd been using for defensive maneuvers, the mutated wolf shifted its giant body in Chris's direction. Chris didn't have to look. He reached out and his hand found the furry cheek to stroke.

“Partner... We save the world.” The hint of a smile ghosted his face. “Because it's the right thing to do.”

Jill carefully watched as he ran his hand along the soft body, walking to its shoulder. He pulled his sword and pierced it through the animal's chest sudden. The creature howled and Chris screamed their agony. How connected were they?

Pulling the sword out, he held it upright and lightning struck the blade, electrifying them both. Chris held on as long as he had to, convulsing horribly. His intent was obvious. Damage them to weaken them. The shock ended and he plunged the blade through Nova's brain, on through to the ground. Nova's howling roar cut short, a pitiful whimper its last sound. He appeared overwhelmed with pain, no longer screaming, choking on it instead. Jill swore she could feel the energy decreasing, aura of power released and clearing.

For a brief second she wondered if she was infected and swiftly forgot about it, as per usual. A field agent quickly learned to ignore the possibility of sickness in order to effectively complete the mission. Chris had immunity, and she kept a distance. No point worrying beyond that.

He was falling to his side and Jill ran to him. The wolf's body weight collapsed, quaking the ground again. Above the sky brightened, late afternoon skies returning. They aborted the catastrophic outbreak in its tracks. They convinced Chris he was loved and needed alive and able. Hopefully he realized that.

She held him, smile in place despite her pervading sorrow. “You sure know how to keep a girl waiting.”

His green eye was duller, a more natural hue. “Funny coming from a dead girl.”

“Yeah,” she laughed weakly. “Sorry about that. Needed a break and then I didn't know what I needed. But I'm okay.”

Chris peered up at her. “I don't think I am.”

Jill caressed his cheek, pretending the drying blood wasn't distressing nor distracting. “Human greed causes things like this, like Umbrella. You were just trying to end human sin, like that Sin guy focused on. It's okay. If anybody gets it, it's me.”

“Yeah. Sounds real sane.” His voice came out soft. He looked exhausted.

“Nova prevented you from being whole, Chris. You weren't you. So it wasn't you who did this. Not really.”

It was quiet a few moments. She saw Eva, Claire, and Leon cautiously approaching. When she looked back down, his eye was closed.

“Thanks, Jill,” he murmured, and his breathing softened and evened, signaling he was unconscious.

“You are welcome, Chris,” she replied, lifting her head. “Did you call for backup, Leon?”

“They're initiating a quarantine for Lebanon and the immediate surrounding area,” he told her. “A perimeter will probably go up around the state's borders, roadblocks, until we know what we're dealing with.”

Wesker appeared on her left. “Give him to me.”

She frowned, clenching him tight.

“I can carry him.” He wriggled his fingers for emphasis.

Relaxing her grip, she nodded assent, shifting to stand. Barry came over while Wesker lifted Chris into his arms and went on to bring him to the nearest vehicle. Claire tugged on Leon's arm and they altered direction to go where Chris would be. He said something to her about taking more medication when she made a noise of pain. Eva stayed put.

“Jill, are you okay?”

“I'm alright, Barry,” she replied. “Eva, right? How are _you_ doing?”

The girl shielded her eyes from the sun, avoiding looking at anybody. “Why would you pretend you were dead? Death hurts people. You of all people should know that.”

She was caught off guard. “Uh, I..I know.”

“It doesn't matter now,” she said, lowering her hand and turning to leave. “The damage is done. We can't change that.”

Morbid. Depressing. The woman definitely wasn't fine.

Krauser passed by, coughing a lungful before grinning. “Victory, comrades. Congratulations.”

“Right...” Barry uttered in response.

It wasn't what she imagined, piling in the government loaned SUV. Sherry Birkin and a man named Renny volunteered to drive her rental. Wesker was going with the car Chris was in, as was Barry. Chris had been laid on the backseat, and Eva put his head in her lap, gently brushing his forehead and short hair. His legs rested on her own lap. Claire and Leon took the middle, dealing as they could with the situation.

The drive was long and the checkpoints a wait they didn't care for. Two people named Nivans and Harper met them at the Kansas border, providing a siren and escort for the remainder of their journey. It was good of them. Chris Redfield made a tremendous reputation for himself a decade ago. She also had. That was a lifetime gone by it seemed like.

Three hours into the drive, Chris woke and vomited blood, gasping and straining to spit it out. Eva comforted him, encouraging his body's rejection. Dry-heaving when nothing else would come up, she used the only available hand she had to continue caressing his face.

He fell asleep murmuring, “Nova... Nova...”

Jill controlled her stare to look out the window instead. She'd checked on her phone. The village they left behind had sixty families, two hundred and twelve civilians. There was nothing she could do for them but mourn for a time in her own thoughts. The highway view was boring but her mind raced. Chris's recovery would take a while, but he'd be okay. Some monster hurt him. She could blow away monsters with the best of them. Point her toward one and she'd shoot.


	13. Meant to Live

_Sterling, Colorado_

A downward spiral was what she expected. She figured major tribulations ahead. Alex Wesker was still out there and so was his C-Virus and commitment to other troubling crimes. The perpetrator of her brother's torment free and unpunished, somewhere potentially plotting evil. What she observed was a detached and eerily calm man.

They brought him to the house like Eva wanted. But it was avoidance for the young woman it would seem. She left very shortly after arriving, wanting to be with her children for a few days. Barry drove her since the broken hand proved a hindrance to the task. Claire wondered if Chris's new proclivity to shadow Wesker around the house had anything to do with the abrupt departure.

Wesker didn't deter the habitual need Chris seemed to have adopted to be near him. Claire chose not to say or do a thing to block it because his company brought her brother comfort. She preferred other companions, but she wouldn't choose for him. Some people hadn't approved of her friendship with Sherry over the age gap, even though she was the only person the child had to make her smile. Her friendship with Moira Burton received a bit of the same reaction to a lesser degree, once they began working together.

There were people who could find a reason to be unhappy about anything.

“Claire, Renny's cooking tonight. Pasta okay?”

She looked up from spying on Chris sitting in a chair supposedly watching television, lowering the magazine serving as cover. “Renny can cook?”

Leon closed the freezer and opened the fridge. “Apparently.”

“Fine.”

“It's fine, guys. Later.” Leon hung up the phone and tossed it on the counter. “Want something to drink?”

“Nah,” she replied distractedly.

How much time until his eye healed? He wore the white medical patch over the injured eye yet. One night and half a day had gone by so far. Depending on wound severity, it took a few hours to a day at most. That was how she thought his R-Virus worked. She'd ask, but she was chicken. Everybody was walking on glass around Chris, acting “normal” to help him feel normal. What a joke.

Well, everybody save for Wesker. The man strolled into the room with hair wet from the shower. He stood behind Chris's chair and tapped him on the shoulder to announce his presence. Chris twisted around and looked at him.

“Your eye. Is it healed?”

He shrugged, prompting the older man to reach to lift the patch. Her brother stilled and let him. His eye was perfect. Wesker removed the unnecessary patch and disposed of it in the trash bin. Claire had to think he didn't check whether the eye was okay or didn't think about it. Thinking further, she wondered if it was possible he didn't think he deserved to heal. He wasn't showing any self-care. No showering or shaving. He wore a scrounged up forest green t-shirt and black sweatpants Eva happened to have kept by accident, shoved in the back of her bedroom closet.

When Claire found the clothes, she asked if he'd like her to buy him more. He told her not to waste her time and walked out to dress. She trailed him once he left the bedroom, gathering numerous weapons and the mercenary gear. It was stored beneath the bed as she was uncertain where else to put them. The outfit was no doubt a bad reminder.

Jill walked through the front door carrying groceries. Rebecca was with her, carrying a grocery bag and a gallon of milk. She entered the kitchen to help the women unload and store the items. Leon passed her by with a bottle of alcohol and glasses. She thought maybe whiskey.

“It's pretty cold today,” Jill remarked, blowing into her palms before rubbing them together.

“Here, Chris,” Leon offered. “You gotta need this.”

She saw him fill three glasses on the wood varnished table, handing the fullest to Chris. He accepted it, studied the contents like a foreign substance, and drained the glass. A smile stretched his lips.

“I remember this.”

Claire couldn't restrain her smile in response. He was honestly smiling. Alcohol wasn't the greatest cause of a smile she could hope for, but it was real. Leon refilled the glass when presented to him for more. Carefully, he clinked his glass with Chris's, grinning.

“Cheers.”

He waited this time, looking toward Wesker. In turn, Wesker took the remaining drink and stared at Chris, who leaned back in his chair. She observed the interaction, speculating on why he seemed to be forcing himself to look the man in the mutated eyes. If she saw that other Wesker, she'd tear his goddamn eyes out.

Leaving the boys to their drinks, she remembered the groceries. Rebecca and Jill had it pretty much taken care of already. She couldn't spy on Chris constantly and she knew it. It caught her attention Jill unloaded several bottles of alcohol to store with the multiple bottles Eva had. She met Claire's stare.

“I want to hold a party for Chris's return,” she explained, which explained the bags of chips. “There's beer in the trunk if you wanna grab it.”

“I got it!” Rebecca announced, hustling out the open door.

Claire grabbed the milk jug instead, opening the fridge to put it away. She eyed the plate she put together for Chris's lunch. He hadn't touched it. He never ate breakfast since they were kids, and he only ate at the hospital because they wouldn't release him if he couldn't. She attempted calculating when was the last time he ate.

Her gaze went to Wesker now relaxing on the larger couch. That's right. He made Chris eat when they got to the house yesterday, frying up eggs and bacon and pouring the last of Eva's orange juice. It was weird how he listened to him. They didn't even like each other. What was the deal between them? Had Wesker become relatable after his experiences of late? Was she _actually_ jealous?

Done with disturbing herself, she shut the fridge and sat at the counter. “Jill...”

“Yes, Claire?” the woman inquired, smirking at her tone.

“Does it bother you being anywhere near..well, you know.”

“Yup,” she immediately replied. “And no. There are a lot of shitty people. I just decide who's worth my stress.”

“Does that work?”

She laughed. “Sometimes.”

Rebecca came in hoisting two twenty-four packs of beer, arms trembling. Claire hopped off the seat and wrapped her arms around the top pack, pulling it off the pile. She nearly dropped the remaining pack but made it to the table. Exhaling, she managed a cheerful smile.

“I can't wait for this party. It'll be so nice seeing everyone having a nice time.”

“Are you sure it's a good idea?” She placed the pack next to the other one. “I mean... Yeah, it should be fine.”

“It will be fine. Promise,” Rebecca assured. “It won't be until Eva gives the say so. Still time to cancel if we need to.”

“Right.”

Jill went to the sink and filled a plastic cup with water. There were pictures of teddy bears and balloons on it. Good thing Chris didn't bother with the kitchen. They settled on not revealing the existence of two kids for now. He had plenty to worry about as is.

Claire's thoughts turned to her brother again. He was mostly silent before he tried to end the world. He kept to himself and it would seem his PTSD reached a level prime to explode. Now he was more “Chris” than she'd yet seen. Trouble was, Chris experienced hell many times over in the past as a soldier, a fighter. He had nightmares they all heard the previous night. Screaming awake twice caused sleep to elude her the majority of the night. Nobody mentioned the raccoon eyes she was sporting, which was highly agreeable.

“Do you know where Alex is?”

She looked pointedly. “Are you serious?”

The empty cup was put on the counter. “I'm not hiding anymore. I want to find this guy and teach him what happens when he messes with the wrong people.”

Rebecca sat at the counter, folding her arms on it. “We don't know. Agent Harper said she'll keep us updated.”

“Can she be trusted?” asked Jill.

“I think so.”

She winced, recognizing she'd been moving around too much. Rebecca noticed but kept her mouth sealed when she sat at the kitchen table to quit shifting bones. Placing a hand on her hurting ribs, she took practiced breaths. Injuries sucked.

“I'll see what Barry can find out,” Jill said, contemplating in an eager manner. “I'm not stopping until the bastard is finished.”

“Wesker's a knowledgeable fellow,” Rebecca admitted. “If there's something to know, he'll discover it.”

Chris would fight, there wasn't a debate in that. Whether allowing it was wise or not, she couldn't say. But she knew what it was like to feel devoted to a particular outcome. If anybody had a right to end that bastard creating so much chaos and who stole a life away for years, it would be him. Jill was looking to get in on the action too, get some payback.

Leon made her take a nap a few minutes into a conversation revolving around motorcycles and electric cars. She woke to Chris sitting on the edge of the mattress. He was holding her hand, resting his forehead in the other. At first she thought he might be asleep, but when she stirred, he abandoned the position to smile at her.

“Do you remember after Mom and Dad died, whenever you got sick?”

Drowsily, she smiled at the memory. “You would sit by my bed, rubbing my hand to sooth me to sleep. All night if you had to.”

Feeling more awake, she rubbed her eyes and looked at him properly. “You'd make a good dad.”

He looked away to the far wall. “After escaping Raccoon, how long did it take you to decide you could be normal again?”

“I bounced back okay, didn't I?”

Chris interlaced their fingers a brief moment. He realized what he was doing and let go, laying his hands in his lap. She sat upright, noticing the weapon there. A .45 handgun.

“Chris, where'd you get the gun?”

“Key was in the pillowcase that smells like shampoo. Unlocked the bedside drawer. This was inside.”

“What are you doing with it?”

“Nothing,” he sighed in frustration. “I never do anything.”

Frowning, she sat up straighter. “What are you talking about, Chris?”

“You did, you know.”

“Huh?”

“Bounce back okay. You're great.”

“Uh, thanks.”

His expression flattened. “We can't go back.”

He kissed her on the back of the hand and rose, walking out of the room. Claire fumbled to crawl out from the covers, following. Chris went straight to where the alcohol was stored in the kitchen. Twisting the top off, he drank from the bottle. Wonderful to see.

“Chris, what the fuck?”

“Ah..leave me alone, Claire.”

“Booze and a gun, could you be more cliché?”

“Don't talk to me, Wesker,” he growled, staring determinedly at the floor.

“Claire, need a minute.”

Her fiance had terrible timing. Leon was waving her toward the front door from the hallway and she went. She was due for her pain medication and did she smell noodles? Claire saw a pot of them boiling on the stove. Renny popped out of the bathroom faster and louder than necessary, giving her a near heart attack.

“Shit...”

“What? Gotta shit, missy? Need the can?”

Humorless, she deadpanned, “You're gonna overcook the noodles, mister.”

“Oh crap!”

He hurried past and she got to Leon. “You're getting outta here?”

“They want me to give a report on what's happened so they can get the wheels moving on the Archer hunt.”

“That's good.” She glanced around rather pointlessly but to make a point of showing she was looking. “Are Rebecca and Jill still here?”

“They're in the car. They're coming with me. Want to be involved and first to know.”

She'd like to be involved, however, her involvement in this would mostly be on the sidelines with her injuries. The three of them would miss dinner but Sherry, Jake, and presumably Billy would come. They didn't know where Krauser was staying. He made himself scarce immediately after the incident in Kansas. Wesker probably knew what was going on with him but Claire didn't care enough to ask.

“Let us know if you guys learn anything new, okay?”

“Roger.” He kissed her on the lips and squeezed her arm, leaving out the door.

“Whoa! Whoa!”

She closed the door and spun, narrowing her eyes to see what was happening. Renny was panicking and waving his hands in the air. Wesker stalked forth, through the dining room and heading for the living room. He looked in the middle of a fight. They sure as hell weren't going to trash Eva's home.

“Don't hurt the food, dammit!”

The gun had been thrown, smashing against a cabinet above the counter. Wesker turned to check if damage was done and her stupid brother plowed into his mid-section. Distracted as he was, the body weight despite Chris's lighter and thinner musculature, proved enough to knock him flat. Hands squeezed his throat.

“Chris!”

Ordinarily she wouldn't mind watching Wesker take a few hits. Hmph. Couldn't they take this outside?

“To be fair,” reasoned Renny. “Wesker goaded him into throwing the first punch.”

A blow to the ribs drove Chris off and they rolled into the table, bumping and sliding it across the floor. Chris tried to punch him in the face and Wesker retaliated with a knee to push him higher, then a kick which sent him tumbling into the living room. Chris rolled to his feet, glaring angrily, positioning to resume combat.

Exasperated, she dared venture closer, aware she could wind up collateral damage. “Why can't you just stop it!?”

Chris shook his head, baffled. He actually heard her. Wesker relaxed his stance, adjusting the sunglasses on his nose, a satisfied smirk growing.

“See now, was that so hard? You just showed me you want to survive. No more nonsense withdrawing and refusing meals, cleaning, and shaving.” Wesker pushed him through the bathroom door. “In the shower, loser.”

Chris was too shocked and dare she say it, overjoyed, to resist heeding him. Claire altered her position to watch him listening, picking up a towel and turning on the water. Humming, the other man announced he would buy new clothes for him to wear afterward. She didn't think she ever saw Wesker appear almost cheery.

Nothing like a little violence to make the boys happy. The idiots were perfect for each other. She decided to ignore them and hang by Renny after taking her pills. When Chris eventually emerged from the bathroom freshly washed and shaved, she beamed, pleased. He'd put his old clothes back on.

Wesker arrived about fifteen minutes later and manhandled him into the bedroom, tossing the clothes after him. She looked at the microwave for the time. The doorbell rang and she jumped. That'd be their motel guests.

Ordering Wesker to set the table, she answered the door. The three she expected were present. Billy helped Jake enter the house on his wheels, Sherry handing over a bag with bottles of rum and soda inside. Claire fought not to make a face. She didn't like how her brother leaned on such drink as a crutch. But they all had their vices, confessed or not.

Dinner wasn't miserable. Now that Chris realized he wasn't trapped in grief and trauma, it was more comfortable to be with him. He wasn't going to be the life of the party anytime soon, hell, he never had been that kind of guy. Jake and Renny did enough talking for everyone though, and Jake insisted declaring several times in a row he did not blame Chris for the temporary wheelchair circumstance.

“These noodles are delicious!” Sherry said through a mouthful.

“You _can_ cook, Renny,” Billy complimented in turn. “I never thought you'd really get around to learning.”

Renny stared at his water glass a moment before replying, “Yeah, well, I realized you never know how much time you might have.”

It was good of him not to look directly at Chris there. Claire ascertained for the third time the man was indeed eating, annoyed they all of them defaulted to repetition to make themselves feel better. Eva said something from her car window when they stopped for gas on the trip back that she wouldn't soon forget.

_“We got him back, but it's like he didn't come back.”_

She'd surely be having bad dreams for a while too.

“Can you live with what happened?” Claire sighed at Wesker bringing the mood down, reminding of Chris's less than stellar behavior earlier. “You can run and hide if you want. It fixes nothing.”

Chris released the fork and topped off his glass of whiskey, grasping it in one hand. “You can't outrun your past.”

Renny chuckled good-naturedly, digging into his plate of pasta. “Sure you can.”


	14. Man of Glass

Two days more and Eva hadn't come back to the house. She called Claire to tell her she wasn't definitive on when she would return. Could be two days, could be a week. He didn't understand why she wouldn't see him. She probably couldn't stand the sight of him, a reminder of someone captured and tortured and drugged to attack his friends. Whatever she felt, it was his fault. Had to be.

His old friends and partners came and went from the motel to the house at random hours of the day. Despite no one saying anything, he was aware Leon had been assigned monitoring his behavior for relapse until the moment he got called away. The assignment wasn't official, unlike his new orders. Everyone continuing to stop in for visits were clearly keeping an eye on him in shifts. He was never left alone for very long.

Claire was always at the house resting in bed or seated elsewhere for best recovery positioning. Rebecca, Renny, and Jill were around the most out of the motel crew. He still couldn't believe Jill had been alive for all these years and Barry knew about it. On the brighter side of things, he kicked the habit of relying too much on Wesker's presence for security, an embarrassing practice he was glad to be done with.

It was frustrating Wesker was attune to his disposition at any given time far better than his friends. Could be it was the man's pattern of observation over direct interference except when he wanted to intervene. His psychological headspace was disorganization at its finest. Present thinking got interrupted by past thinking he no longer believed in anymore. What the drugs made him think. What Alex tried to make him think. Old and new memories mixing and mashing to a confusing degree. One thought remained cognizant throughout: he loathed the monster that was Legend.

Chris lowered the tall bottle and peered out the front window. The liquor served a fine distraction from reliving moments of murder and brutality, either at Alex's hands or his own. Reality checks weren't enough to keep him stable. He had to be strong for his friends, but he was weak and troubled. Had to distract. Had to dull the internal screaming of his hopeless state. Were those new neighbors?

He managed a scoff at the idea of calling anyone neighbors. Stepping away from the window, he walked around to the door and quietly went to stand on the porch. Jill and Billy were in the kitchen drinking coffee and reminiscing on creepy mansions and their creepy owners. He hated remembering that stuff. Why talk about it?

The whiskey he left on the porch as he wandered to the driveway. A moving truck was parked in the driveway next door. For some reason he thought there was something off about it and felt the pull to investigate for answers. He'd gotten to the side of the truck when a blonde woman in tight leather exited the back, sliding the door down and shut behind her. She rounded the vehicle corner and halted, eyeing him. Chris felt distinctly threatened, an attack imminent.

Suddenly the rising tension deflated with the sound of a man's voice coming from behind him.

“Maria, we know this man. It's alright.”

“You do?” Chris turned to look at him, frowning. “Who are you?”

“The name is Glenn Arias,” he shared.

Far too open for his own good.

“Arias? The merchant of death,” he uttered in disbelief, expanding on what he could recall. “Former CIA who got into illegal bioweapon trade during the war on terror.”

“Ah, we need no introductions.”

“You're kidding, right? Virus expert associated with the Los Iluminados cult moves in next door to a house frequented by a DSO agent who has dealt with them before.”

“Are you counting out the BSAA agent and anti-terrorist enforcement group leader?”

Chris narrowed his eyes. “Are you after an agreement with Wesker? He's still holding onto leftover Tricell and Umbrella assets which I'm sure you covet. He'll screw you over in the end if you make a deal with that bastard.”

“We have an enemy in common, Mr. Redfield. I delivered Dr. Sheppard to your associates to help them find you.”

He wished he wore his uniform and weapons right now. Oh yeah, he didn't have a uniform. No BSAA or team to give him a sense of purpose. Dedicated his entire life to a cause and look where it got him. Jill could feel the same way, he considered, and made an effort to lessen the self-pity.

“You should find a new address, or better yet, turn yourself in.”

Arias smiled much less pleasantly. “Here we thought you'd lost yourself. But you haven't changed at all.”

Chris grimaced at the lack of truth in that. He turned toward the spot he put the liquor. Maria gazed at him as she passed by to go into the house. He wasn't sure who she was to the terrorist. Family? Friend? Partner? Employee? All of the above?

“Why don't you come inside for a drink?”

“I shouldn't.”

He followed them inside the house. It beat having hovering friends spying on him because they worried he'd lose his mind again. A terrorist wouldn't care about him or how much he drank.

“I sympathize with your recent plight, Mr. Redfield,” he told him straightforward while walking to a kitchen table bearing an array of liquor bottles. “The world could use a reset.”

Chris stopped in his tracks, just short of the room. The attractive woman plopped down in a chair at the table, swinging her feet up to rest on the surface. Her hair covered part of her face, concealing an eye. It must be hard to see like that. But then, he imagined tight leather would be a bitch to stroll around in too. Sure looked good though...

Arias retrieved a glass and held it out to him. “Will you partake?”

“Yeah,” he muttered in reply, entering the room. “I don't think that anymore, you know, about killing people to start a new world. It wouldn't fix a thing.”

Handing over the full glass, the man who he just noticed was wearing really nice clothes said, “I sympathize with your suffering and loss. I can understand a desire to make the world pay for what it took from you, how people are treated.”

He wasn't in the mood to explain temporary insanity. Waking in that hospital bed, he couldn't feel a damn thing except agony of every sort. Nova's presence was felt lingering outside during the early morning hours, staying near. It caused a despondency in him he embraced. His companion followed faithfully. They'd end their pain together, along with the whole planet. That was their intention. That was their mistake.

Nova kept him from processing things. Somewhere in the darkest parts of his mind, he knew this. While he was captive to the whims of a mad man, he liked it. When he wasn't trapped in hell any longer, it frightened him to be feeling and remembering. Facing what he'd done... He drank the glass dry.

Maria swung her legs over the side of the table and stood. “I'm going to keep my father company.”

“Very well,” he replied, watching her leave the house. They sipped their respective drinks, looking at each other now. “Another?”

He gave him the glass to fill and received it back. “Thanks.”

“Do you mind if I call you Chris?”

His mind was elsewhere, and he asked, “Do you have sex with men?”

“Excuse me?” The man lowered the drink before changing his mind and taking a sip prior to responding. “What are you truly asking?”

Chris drained that glass too, and Arias judged him openly. “Want to have sex with me?”

The beginnings of a smirk formed and erased. “I must say, this is a most unexpected suggestion.”

“I want to get over this shit. You're a stranger. You don't matter to me. It's not booze so it won't fog my head. Just an idea.”

Alex did whatever he liked to anyone he liked. Humans were less than nothing to him. They were expendable, useful for experimentation to transform them into “evolved” versions, and nothing else. He was at a loss fighting someone as powerful as him. Wesker could be a vain and nihilistic man. Alex was those things, but had ambition to a poisonous degree. Wesker one day chose to control his worst impulses; Alex would never dream of it.

“Forget I said anything.”

“I am out of practice, admittedly,” Arias said, putting his drink on the table. “And with a man, I've never.”

Chris grinned, laughing internally at himself for his own stupid ask. “Are you declining?”

“Fair warning given. So, I do you?”

Surprised to hear agreement for a moment, spit caught in his throat. He swallowed it clear. “Yeah.”

Determination entered his mind. He became singularly focused on the decision made. Chris grabbed Arias's neat tie and pulled him close. Perturbed at the potential wrinkle His Royal Stiffness might garner, he pulled away to give a dirty look. Laughing, feeling like an idiot, he latched onto that pretty vest.

“How'd you think this was gonna go? Afraid to get a little messy?”

His eyes flashed warning which he could not care less about. Chris went for it and kissed him on the lips. He did it close-mouthed out of manners. He'd be nothing resembling Alex in this. Arias pressed forward, grasping the clean shirt Wesker bought him, and their mouths opened to expand the experience.

Images broke them apart. He shook his head, glancing at the plentiful liquor supply. The point was to move away from that somehow. Well, it wasn't the main thing he was trying to move away from.

He yanked his shirt over his head by the collar's back. “You okay wrecking your clothes?”

Arias released a mirthful chuckle. “Are you sure _you've_ done this before?”

Chris found the floor. He did not want to think. His eyes noticed the man loosening his tie.

“I have other clothes. No mattresses have been moved into the house yet. Shall we use the couch?”

Too prissy for the floor. Fine. He went to the couch and waited for Arias to do the same. He was searching around until he spotted a bag and started digging inside. Chris shucked his boots and pants so he couldn't change his mind. The boxer briefs were snugger than he liked. Wesker didn't get everything right size-wise.

Arias knelt beside the couch, holding up a bottle which read lubricant on the label. Alex didn't use the stuff. He was meant to suffer. He tossed the bottle on the couch cushion Chris wasn't on and tore a condom from a strip of them. Consideration, how novel for this particular brand of encounter.

They arranged themselves on the cushions horizontal, finishing adjustments to clothing for what was to come. Arias prodded at the entrance to his body he'd need to use with two fingers. He hooked an arm under one knee and held it to his chest. His other leg he let hang over the end of the couch. Three fingers dug in and curled and he splintered.

“Wait.”

Strong hands tore at him, clawing skin open. A hand gripped his throat and teeth dug into his neck. _“This is what you do, hm? This is what you need? Drink from me! Drink!” “No!”_ The teeth penetrated skin, thrusts stilling as the lower assault was forgotten, and he screamed.

Oh shit, he was actually screaming. Arias stood next to the couch looking uncertain. None of what he believed happened did. It was a memory. Shit.

He felt a catatonia taking grip. Immobile, he stared at the ceiling in a stupor. Panicked thoughts wrestled with calming thoughts he struggled to insert. Until one won out over the other, he didn't think he'd be able to move.

“I heard screaming.”

The male voice didn't sound familiar. It didn't comfort him. He had to get out of here. Yeah, right. He couldn't even speak.

“Trauma? A memory lapse? I'm not sure.”

“Who might you be?”

“This is _my_ house. You answer first.”

“Your house. Cute.” He did recognize that voice. “Name's Krauser. Are you attacking my friend there? That would be a very foolish thing to do.”

Chris's fingers twitched, body feeling like it was waking out of a long sleep. He was embarrassed to seize up and freeze. The anxiety was fading, situational awareness returning.

“If we're not doing this, can I have another drink?”

“You do a lot of things you shouldn't, Mr. Redfield.”

He snorted, propping onto elbows now that mobility had returned to him. “Coming from the guy about to give me a dicking, I won't hold it against you that you aren't using my first name.”

“We're still on?”

He grimaced, unsure he could guarantee going through with it. “Maybe.”

Arias shifted foot to foot while he was thinking on the act of sex. Only been with women in his life until Alex stole his life away. It was all bad. None of it was good. But it was supposed to be. He wanted to try. He refused to feel anger and despair toward the good things life had to offer. His words emerged cold in his distress.

“Will you suffocate me or abandon me like everyone else in my life?”

Perplexed, the new arrival frowned, and his reply sounded thought out. “Do you consider a required separation for the well-being of the public abandonment?”

Chris considered, smile growing as he recalled how little time they spent together his entire life. He'd play at sarcasm to hide the fear. “You don't _call_ , you don't _write_.”

Krauser crossed into the room where Arias was standing with hands clenching his pant front closed. He appeared somewhat uncomfortable at the intrusion and audience. Chris didn't care. He couldn't confuse two separate people for Alex.

He patted Arias on the thigh once. “Go ahead.”

This sorry coping attempt with the enemy and faking with his friends continued. Eva's absence also continued. He drank often to shut down his guilt and loneliness. He paid a daily visit to the house next door to get fucked and feel pleasure and companionship. He recognized it was self-defeating and couldn't go on forever. Just for now.

Krauser thrust a few more times, emptying into the condom. Groaning, he fought the automatic tension and basked in the afterglow of good sex. The bulkier man released his arms and sank back on his haunches, deeply gratified. Arias rubbed his shoulder, rising from the bedspread in discomfort. He already fucked him beforehand, however... Chris encouraged him into his mouth when he noticed his hardness. This with them was different than Alex. That's why it was better.

He shifted to his side, raising his upper half. Krauser's hand gripped to jerk him to completion. Bobbing along, he spat the foul fluid on the sheets when Arias came. There was probably a more ideal system to oral. Chris reached his own “happy ending” seconds after. A hand massaged his scalp and neck briefly.

“That was nice.”

“You catch on quick, Chris,” Krauser remarked, amused.

Rolling his eyes, he wiped spit off his chin, sitting up. “I should get back. Leon isn't a fan of Krauser babysitting duty. I'd say he doesn't trust you, Jack.”

“It's Krauser. Always Krauser. We understand each other?”

He refrained rolling his eyes again. Shuffling to the edge of the mattress, he reached for his clothes. Krauser did a backwards somersault off the bed and super sped to the pile of clothes on the floor. He threw them into his lap with a prideful smirk.

He did roll his eyes again. “Show off.”

Krauser shut his eyes, leaning into the dresser. “Just jealous you're not super special like me anymore.”

“You okay?” he questioned, frowning.

He straightened, opening his eyes and seeming fine. “Peachy.”

Arias was mostly dressed, fixating on doing it neatly. Chris tugged his shirt over his neck and shoved a leg into his pants. Finishing getting the pants around his waist, he pushed his arms through short sleeves and pulled the hem of it downward. He was wearing the old found clothes freshly laundered and given to him by his sister.

“I'd like to introduce you to the only other family member I have besides Maria.”

Chris paused before going back to tying his sneakers. Something else Wesker bought for him. Krauser waltzed to the bathroom in his nude glory to take a shower. It was his post-coital routine.

He looked at the man when he stopped and waited by the door. He stood. “Lead the way.”

He was led through the house and to the moving truck which remained parked in the drive. Arias grasped the handle and lifted the door. He looked inside. There was someone alive in there. Chris knew something was up with this thing. He'd known it.

Arias motioned for him to go in and followed after. The man began sharing a story once they were inside, peering toward the far back where a bulky shadow sat.

“When the CIA discovered my dealings with the black market, their reaction was cruel. My bride... Her name was Sarah. A CIA ordered bombing decimated our wedding, killing all but myself, Maria, and her father.”

Arias lit several bright candles placed strategically to illuminate the interior. It was evident this had been done numerous times. Chris moved closer, cautious but composed. He flipped the lighter closed and smiled, but there was sadness in his eyes.

“Diego Gomez. I did what I could for him. He was left disfigured and requires this medical apparatus, the equipment, to keep him stable.”

The severity of his condition was breath-taking in its horror. Chris took the picture he was handed. A wedding photo with the bride and groom, Maria, and the man who must be who he was standing before. The latter two stood on the bride's side, so he assumed they were her family. He wondered what virus was used to make him look the way he did now; massive muscle to an inhuman degree, abnormal hunchback. He wore a metal mask among the other metal items adorning his body. Restraining?

It took another moment to see a jarring similarity. “The bride, um, your bride. She... Well, I don't know if you've seen her, but she looks a lot like-”

“Your friend Rebecca Coen. Yes.” He switched to what he'd been saying, brushing aside anxiety. “Maria wasn't unscathed either. I was luckiest, or unluckiest, depending on your point of view.”

Chris examined the lump of a man. He looked in pain. Arias must be hiding pain as well. Approaching the far back, he carefully put his hand over the other man's much larger hand.

“I'm sorry this happened to you.”

He understood fallout and the things left behind. Chris couldn't be with her and it was for the best anyway. He can't love her the way she wants. They needed strength. He wasn't that. She deserved everything, and he had no ability to provide.

“We can all only take so much before there must be consequences.”

Glimpses of his crimes forced him to clench his jaw. The acts were many and weighed heavy. He didn't want to think about it.

“Chris?” Jill's voice called out to him.

“I have to go,” he told Arias. “Thank you for your honesty.”

He was studied as he moved past to leave. “Of course..Chris.”

Hopping down from the back, he saw a black car with government plates parked on the curb in front of Eva's house. He uttered as loud as he dared behind himself, “Stay here until you hear a car leave.”

Jill stood between the two yards, looking at the front door until she located Chris coming from an angle she wasn't expecting. He smiled and lifted a hand to greet her. Squeezing her wrist briefly with familiarity, he leaned close to whisper.

“You know the new neighbors aren't on the up and up, right?”


	15. When the Brave Man Falters

“Chris Redfield? Do you remember me?”

He remembered the face, not the name. Jill ambled to a bush in front of a window, collecting empty beer bottles. Looking at him disappointed, her attention strayed to the female agent in a pants suit. She was sweaty and the jacket was unbuttoned, pants wrinkled.

“Piers Nivans? Military branch of the DSO,” the guy guessed at his uncertainty. “This is my partner, Helena Harper, police branch.”

“Go inside to talk,” Jill said. “Claire and I will go buy more beer for the party.”

Chris studied the man and woman presumably there to see him. Would they arrest him? Lock him away for the rest of his days? Which would be..eternity. He didn't age. That's what Wesker told him all those years ago. Or they could be here to get information, and they'd leave him in his unusual state of freedom under surveillance.

“Chris?”

He met her unwavering stare. “Yeah?”

“It's tomorrow.”

He internally flinched by her obvious concern for his state of mind and ability to remember. He wasn't helpless or that sad. Chris smiled and started for the door.

“I know, Jill.”

“Okay.” She passed him into the house to find Claire.

They entered the house but stood just inside. Clearly they weren't looking to stay. He pushed past and thought about where to stand, settling on the hall and rotating to face them. Slipping a hand into his pocket, he stuck gum in his mouth and chewed noisily until it was soft.

“Captain Nivans, do you know a weapons dealer named Arias?”

Their eyes found Wesker standing in the hall. “Arias? I think I've heard of him...”

“What is he to you?”

He shifted to a tighter stance, adjusting his tactical vest. Harper on the other hand, relaxed a little. “Informant. Nothing for you to worry about. You of all people.”

Her disgust with him was palpable. Wesker hummed and sauntered back the way he came. Claire and Jill appeared, heading for the door with purses over shoulders. It was sunny and warm today, so they were opting to go without jackets. He almost never saw Claire minus her favorite red jacket, no matter the weather. She was dressed nice, a cool looking fabric button up shirt and black jeans. Heeled boots as normal. She smiled and hugged him when she reached him.

The two women left out the door and Nivans closed it behind them, taking it as their cue to begin talking.

“We came by to check on you since Leon hasn't been available to observe and report your status as agreed in our deal. Once we discovered someone forced you to commit crimes, attacks... It..didn't sit right with us, you know. We wouldn't hear of not finding a different solution than imprisonment. So..how are you?”

“Right. Well I'm fine.”

Everybody needed to leave him alone on questioning his health or what he was thinking. He'd get better in time. He needed the time though. Chris was tired of the sympathetic looks. He was simply tired.

Harper kept peering through the narrow window pane beside the door. She seemed nervous. It was probably his fault. He might scare her because of the things he'd done as Legend. She couldn't wait to get of there.

“Look,” Nivans said, drawing his attention from the distracted woman. “We had to check in, but also, I really wanted to meet you.”

That surprised him and although he heard Renny start chattering in the dining room to somebody, he blocked the sound. “Why?”

He stuttered a moment before saying what he wanted. “Uh, I want to be like you. Your work in the BSAA inspired me. I dreamed of joining up, hoping to one day work with you.”

Chris blankly stared. This younger man was praising him like he was some hero. He was not a hero.

“Wanted to be like me, you mean, right? Who would want to be like me now?”

Awkward silence permeated the atmosphere. He didn't hear Renny either and a quick glance informed he was standing by the hall in the dining area watching them. Nivans glanced at his partner who barely returned the look before shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. She checked her phone screen and pocketed it.

“You're gonna be that guy again, aren't you? Fight bioterrorism?” The kid was gushing. “People would say how the percentage of a successful mission outcome improved vastly when you were sent in. Alone, in a team, didn't matter. You're good. In the field...” He shrugged. “It's where you belong.”

He smiled, bewilderment winning. “Sounds like you're gonna be a good role model for future soldiers.”

“Let's get going, Piers.”

“Alright, Helena. Start the car. I'll be right out.”

She practically ran out the door to leave. The door was left open and Nivans gripped it, preparing to go too. He met Chris's eyes.

“It's an honor meeting you.”

Chris shook his head. “Your partner seems upset. You seem responsible. Don't let her down. Copy that, Piers?”

The other grinned, appearing happy. “Roger.”

Watching him go, he closed the door and turned round. Avoiding the section of the house he knew there were people, he trudged down the hallway. Bored and itching to drink, he had to resist. It was always a battle in his brain and the human brain was weak and stupid. It was easy to give in to bad things.

He stopped in his tracks, noticing he'd walked to the bedroom on auto. It was the only room he cared to spend time in for the majority of his time. They usually gave him privacy if he was in there. Eva must not want him in her bed. They hadn't shared one in a long time. He was different now. She was different now. No wonder she refused to be inside her home.

Chris switched directions and began pushing open doors as he went. There were a couple extra rooms if he was correctly recalling. He would find a different room to sleep in and maybe she'd come see him.

The door swung inward. _What the hell?_

He very slowly wandered into the room. Beds fit for children. His wide gaze scanned terribly slow, feeling as if he couldn't absorb what he was seeing. Toys and books suitable for children surrounding him. Eva had kids with someone. Did she remarry while he was dead to the world at large?

“Chris.”

He walked out of the room, ignoring Wesker standing next to a wall hook holding small backpacks. She was with her new boyfriend or husband. She had a family. Chris was the odd man out. A boy and a girl from the looks of things. He should move out to let her feel comfortable with her new family. He didn't belong.

“They're your kids, Chris. No one thought it a good time to tell you.”

_His? His. Liar._

He whirled to glare at Wesker exiting the room to join him in the hall. “What are you saying? How is that possible?”

“She was pregnant before you were taken.”

So nonchalant. It pissed him off. “Why didn't anyone tell me?!”

“We-”

“Shut up! Excuses. False reasoning. You're a liar, Wesker! I don't believe a goddamn word that comes out of your mouth.”

“Denial is unattractive, Chris.”

“ _You_ are unattractive, Wesker.”

He winced. Wasn't his strongest moment. Somehow it was enough. Wesker growled and attacked, compelled to it. The fist hit his cheek and he grunted, falling. On the carpet, he traced the softness beneath his fingers. Gentle things like this still made him almost cry. He took so much for granted.

Spinning around, he lunged for Wesker's legs and brought the bastard low. Chris crawled up his body and hit him in the face twice. He was just lying there. _He_ attacked _him_.

Chris grabbed the sunglasses and removed them, looking into those inhuman eyes. Alex shared those exact eyes. But they weren't the same person. Wesker wasn't particularly vengeful or cruel. He had a cold indifference to him too often. He hated the world and wanted to do something about it. Chris spent most of his life wanting to do something about the trouble in the world. Like most of humanity, it was a constant war against insanity in an insane world. And he knew Wesker allowed him to put him on his back, vulnerable.

Wesker yanked him down and he thought he'd smack his head on the guy's nose. He didn't and they kissed, firm and desperate to taste. The man set him at ease when he was released from the shackles of his tormentor. The person who understood the nightmares out in the world on every level, who lost his wife as he did, and who had strength to combat evil. It felt like protection, reluctant as he was to share that with anyone else.

They removed and undid only what was necessary and then he was being lifted and penetrated from below. Wesker dragged upward to lean on the wall and returned both hands to his waist. In spite of his shock this was happening, it felt inevitable too. Maybe they danced around this for years, never realizing what they were doing. Hate. Violence. Love. Sex.

Exhaling rough a few times, he leaned in to put their foreheads together, moving along with Wesker's thrusts. It kinda hurt and it kinda was pleasant. Recently having sex helped and the thought crossed his mind Wesker had to know what he'd been up to over there. Thinking was no good. He didn't get that kind of emotional with this man. Defiant, absolutely.

Chris put their mouths together, wrapping his arms around strong shoulders. He had to be strong but he was weak. He'd have to work on that. He had a lot to prove.

The minutes ticked by and he was pulled firm into the lap. Groaning, he struggled to even his panting breath. A wet substance dribbled in him and he realized Wesker wasn't wearing a condom. He held on when the pace quickened another minute and then he was climaxing, spurting deep inside. Chris's orgasm burst from him at the feel of it, coating Wesker's shirt.

“Whoops,” he uttered, unapologetic. The bastard was not short or thin. He'd be sore and feeling it for a while.

He separated them and fixed his clothing, tugging at Wesker's soiled shirt. “Trash this.”

Stepping back to give space, Wesker stood to fix his own clothing and pulled the shirt off. Sex was a temporary distraction. Contemplation enjoyed leaking in during the moments in between, specifically immediately afterward. The time machine incident, a might have been lover and future in Amy Cross. He doubted anyone else remembered what only he saw.

“I can never forget what she'll never remember.”

“Chris?”

He sighed. “For me it always comes back to July 24, 1998. Everything I do comes back to that night,” He looked at Wesker. “And to you.”

“You shouldn't worry so much.”

Chris laughed. “You remember the time machine, don't you? You're my constant, you stupid son of a bitch! Not flowers. You are what pulled me out of time back then. Do you ever think about someone else? Do you ever care?”

Laughing. The two of them found Eva standing at the start of the hall. She was laughing but actually crying. Chris stared, not knowing what to do.

“Do you remember me, Chris?” She waited through several seconds of silence. “Do you remember me at all?”

“Yes.”

“Then what the hell are you doing?”

“I-” He hesitated. What did she mean?

“He's my _dad_ , Chris.”

She sounded like she knew. He prayed she hadn't seen any of it.

“I know he was always there, Chris. I recognized when we were a team, when we brought Umbrella down. You guys zeroed in on each other like magnets. It happened repeatedly. It could be significant. I knew that. I never thought this though. This is-” She cut herself off and swallowed, swiping across her eyes to dry them.

He wished she would quit using his name.

“What the fuck were you guys doing?” she suddenly yelled. “What's wrong with you?”

Chris was overcompensating, that's what this had to be. He drank, had ill-advised sex, and hardly slept because of the nightmares. He was a mess. How was he supposed to act like a husband? How was he supposed to act like a _father_?

“How could you keep from me that I've got kids?” he demanded in turn. “You think I shouldn't know that?!”

Eva squared her shoulders, hands on her hips, staring angrily. “I'm not the murderer!”

“Eva, don't.”

“Keep out of this!” they shouted at Wesker simultaneously.

“Melody's dead! I know it's not your fault but-”

“Yeah right. You're blaming me. And you're right. It wasn't my mind but my body committed the act. It makes me have a responsibility. I'm sorry for what I did.”

She pointed at Wesker. “You sorry for what _you_ did?”

Offended by the accusatory tone, he stared her down. “I do what I want.”

The laugh was loud and forced. “Great! You really lost your mind when you lost Mom. No conscience in sight. Must make life so easy.”

“Your husband made the vow, not-”

“Shut up!” Chris and Eva again yelled at the same time, dismissive of the asshole.

“Eva, I'm not sure what I'm doing,” he confessed, thinking on how to calm her. “Getting raped, a male partner just felt needed. The others effectively get physical how I can feel close to normal. I didn't know where you were. Sorry. I am.”

He couldn't do anything without hurting somebody.

“Others? What others?” she interrogated. “Don't tell me this isn't personal. It's always personal with you, Chris.”

Since he couldn't calm her, he calmed himself. “Okay.”

She crossed her arms. “What?”

“I don't want to fight. Let's talk about you instead.”

“I don't think so! There's no-”

“Eva, how long do you have?”

Her rage began to recede. “Nobody knows for sure.”

He was glad she didn't play dumb. One of his memories as Legend was to bypass and care nothing for her. He sensed corrupted DNA. The drugs heightened every ability and also created new abilities.

“How do you feel?”

“I could use a saline drip,” Eva joked.

“Not well, huh?”

Her face fell. “Sometimes.”

She turned away. Chris put his hand on her shoulder to encourage her to turn around. She gave in but wouldn't look him in the eye.

“I share the blame. I wasn't here for you. I was afraid of you.” He recoiled, drawing his hand back to hear her confirm what he suspected. “It was difficult to come home knowing I could feel that way about you. I was ashamed.”

“Right.” What was he to say?

“I screwed up.” Eva's conciliatory expression sharpened. “Nah. This isn't real. No way. Where's Claire?”

He and Wesker watched her walk off to another section of the house. They did not pursue and went their separate ways. Chris sat in the room where his actual fucking kids spent their nights sleeping. He fell asleep on the too small mattress of his boy. He woke in the morning, no, afternoon.

Stumbling to the bathroom to piss, he discovered there were guests. Jake waved, Billy greeted with a scolding look, and Renny offered the finger but a smile afterward. It was safe to guess word of his infidelity had spread.

Trying to exit the bathroom, some guy who said he was Josh, a friend of Eva's, informed him he was supposed to shower and handed him the clothes Wesker bought. After dressing in the freshly laundered clothes, he padded into the kitchen wearing only socks on his feet. His shoes eluded him for the moment.

Josh was in the living room with Krauser and Barry, chatting with the television on. He listened to Josh admit fear of a new large-scale outbreak. Billy moved off to join them in the other room, beer in hand. Renny grabbed Jake's wheelchair handles despite his protests and pushed him into the area to sit by the gathered men. Chris couldn't be sure if he was the cause of the evacuation or Wesker. The guy strolled in and seated himself at the head of the table, putting his back to the adjoined room. Arias followed but chose to veer off to the crowded room.

He wondered where the women were hanging out. Cereal sounded like a good idea. Chris scavenged for the sugary kind: retrieving a bowl, spoon, and milk from the fridge. He sat in a chair facing the hall and front door, to Wesker's right, and focused on his food even as a blender started up in the kitchen. A house teeming with people and he desired solitude for rumination.

/

“It's just such bullshit,” she exclaimed. “Two people who thought it was meant to be, doomed by fate or circumstance. You know, whatever. Of course life had to pull it so I have not one, but _two_ children. My dad and husband are in love with each other. And me? I've got a fatal disease. Fuck me.”

Sitting around on Eva's bed or on chairs or the floor, Diedre returned holding a blender full of margarita. She filled her own tall glass and passed the blender to Sherry. Sherry filled hers and passed it to Rebecca, who declined in favor of her spiked coffee drink already at hand. The blender passed to Claire. Janice nearly spilled her beer and chuckled at her clumsy self. At least she didn't laugh at Eva's ridiculous family matters.

Jill mulled over her depressing speech, setting her whiskey aside on the bedside table. “What do you really believe?”

Eva had plenty to say, spurred on by copious amounts of alcohol. “I should have realized they had some weird attraction to each other. My dad running away from him, hiding, probably avoiding what he felt. Chris searching for him, supposedly for justice and for his betrayal in 1998, but Dad delayed killing him whenever they met. And their time working on the same side Chris wished hadn't ended.”

Her cup was empty. She held her cup out and Jill added the last of the whiskey bottle into it. She looked almost regretful, like she'd hoped the remainder would be for her consumption. Eva drank every drop.

“Chris loves you, Eva,” Sherry reminded.

She scoffed, sucking on the rim of the plastic party cup. “Chris loves Wesker.”

“Yeah, but he hates him too.”

Eva looked at Claire. “He used to hate him. Now...” Her head was all tingly. Everything was lighter this way. “I think he loves Wesker..but he'll still have sex with the other two.”

“Those idiots won't admit it,” Rebecca derided, in a cheerful manner she alone could manage.

“Whatever he feels now, Eva, you have to remember he loved you.”

Her eyes narrowed in a criticizing glower. “Yeah, loved.”

“I meant, well...”

She put him on a pedestal, then learned he wasn't the perfect man. Perfection was a lie. It didn't exist. Eva idolized him, especially after she thought he died, and there were repercussions for that. She laid awake most of the night accepting her reality.

“I thought we could be something for real,” she murmured.

“We should get more drinks,” suggested Diedre. “These girls are thirsty.”

Eva scrambled off the bed, giggling for no good reason. “I'm not getting hung up on what could have been or what could be. I'm gonna embrace Chris however he is, whatever he needs. Now let's get more booze!”

“Bipolar Eva...” She heard Claire say, and someone replied, “Drunk Eva.”

The seven marched on to the kitchen and dining areas. They assembled, spreading out at random. Eva waltzed in, aided by her liquid courage, and sat in the seat directly opposite Chris.

“How come all the good-looking guys end up gay?” she asked the room and connecting rooms as a whole. “What will be left for us women?”

Deafening silence. Eva wished she had a pin to drop. Laughing in her head, she glanced around for liquor and when she didn't see any, gave up. Diedre stood between the living and dining areas, looking back and forth. She took the time to study three men in particular.

“So do you gentlemen go for either gender, or are you gay..?”

No response. Janice got herself a beer and sat at the table across from Chris too. She sat sideways in the chair, facing Wesker and two specific men seated near the TV. The lady didn't stop.

“Did you ever have sex with men? You know, besides Mr. Redfield.”

Krauser grunted. “Nope.”

Arias glanced her way. “No. I like women..ordinarily.”

Wesker had been staring at the older woman all the while. Eva almost started tapping the fingers of her usable hand on her leg, but didn't. She set the good hand on the table before slipping it into her lap. She finally looked at her father.

“No,” he answered, elongating the O a bit, denoting annoyance and an end to that questioning.

Janice hummed thoughtfully, looking at Chris. “Ah... Then it's not men, it's the man.”

He lifted his head, staring at the three men one by one, wide eyes revealing his puzzlement. When they took note of his staring, he dived back into his cereal, stuffing his mouth rapidly. Grown-ass men. Sheesh.

Sherry decided to get in on the fun. “Do all the bad men go good for Chris? That's a twist.”

Claire giggled a little at the idea.

“You do have an adorable quality to you,” Rebecca said, walking in from the hall to stand beside Chris. She ruffled his hair and he flinched. She flinched in response, lowering her arm and looking guilty. “Sorry.”

Jill tried to add levity. “I can kind of see it fitting Chris would go for the bad boys.”

“So is it like the reverse?” Sherry asked. “You know, the bad boys go for the good boy?”

Claire put on a “totally innocent” expression. “You mean Chris is going to attract the bad boys and turn them good?”

Diedre couldn't help herself. “Saving the world..one dick at a time.”

A euphemism. Wonderful. Sexual or perfectly innocent like they have dicks or they are jerks. She would have laughed, but Chris laughed, full and rich. It was a real good laugh. A laugh she doubted anyone heard since they got him back. She smiled, overjoyed to hear that coming from him.

Chris stood. “Thank you,” he told Diedre, and walked away down the hall leisurely.

Eva watched Janice and Diedre watch him go, the former overtly gazing at his butt. She made an appreciative noise. The front door opened and shut. Standing, she strode down the hall after him. She was beginning to cry and wanted to hide it. Chris came inside and she stood in place, looking at him as he walked up to her.

A hand on her shoulder, he brushed her hair back. She was feeling lost and furious and hurt about his infidelities and the time they could never reclaim. Eva was barely keeping it together and Chris nudged her beneath the chin, indicating she should keep her head up, not literally. She melted. Her man was here. He was still him. He just..required more help than she could give.

Hugging her, she sobbed out of her control. They weren't okay. They did still care about each other though. Chris was alive and working to move forward. She hoped he could live for his family and get better.

“I'm sorry. I don't want to keep letting you down. You've been so tough and I was afraid I'd get in the way of whatever life you built.”

“I was never that strong, Chris,” she said. “I was just good at pretending.”

Pulling away, she sank to the floor wanting him to go away and let her weep in private. Which, she realized in her inebriated state, she forgot there was an entire audience straight ahead. Wonderful. Eva laughed softly, wiping at the tears. Chris slid down the wall a couple feet from the door she was pressed against.

She vocalized surprise when he lifted her into his lap, confused and not exactly wanting that. But he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her close to kiss her forehead sweetly. She couldn't resist accepting what he was offering, and sobbed into his shoulder and neck. Eva curled to the side to peek at him a moment and saw how he kept his head level, stare empty of emotion. No tears. She'd call it determination. For what, she couldn't decipher.

“You have a future, Chris. It's yours to choose. Don't forget.”

Dipping back into the curve, she drew comfort from him. Her head swam. She was pretty exhausted. It was nice to know while they felt entirely separate, their connection endured.


	16. One of Those Nights

_Boulder, Colorado_

It was annoying to make the drive all because he forgot his cell phone. He should be grateful Leon and the others allowed him to borrow a car but he was mostly annoyed. Entering Boulder City twenty minutes ago, he was driving around trying to work out where the house they stayed in was located.

Mountains, mountains, mountains. He'd be happy not to see one for a while. Farther out from the city center was where the rich people lived. Renny drove up and down streets until finally he spotted the familiar, sparsely treed spacing bringing him to the front gate. Shifting the vehicle into park, he exited and punched in the code the family provided.

Apparently following some horrific incident years back, this wealthy family swapped living in the home themselves to instead loan to boarders and those in need of a place to stay. Often students of the local university or family members of admitted patients stayed there. While their group was using the house, about ten others were boarding at the home too. Leon didn't say what he did to make them so gracious and charitable, but he did say they shouldn't feel indebted when he was just doing his job.

He got in the car and drove toward the extravagant house via the long driveway. Parking before the staircase leading to the front door in the curved drive, he stepped out and automatically his gaze zoomed to the guest house on the right side of the property. It was a stone building, two-story, and he could see lights on. Evening approached and the skies had already been overcast all afternoon. He would be stuck traveling in the dark on the return journey.

Convinced he hadn't heard a crash like he thought he had, or at least that it was something taken care of by whoever was inside, he began the walk to the entrance. He was about to ring the bell when he hesitated, checking his back. Something didn't feel right. Since he couldn't pinpoint what was bothering him, Renny disregarded the bell and knocked four times.

No one answered. He tried to peer through the nearby windows from the porch but the curtains were drawn. Deciding enough time passed, he knocked again. No answer. Guests of the house could come and go as they wanted, so thinking along those lines, he tried the door handle. It opened and he moved inside.

Slowly closing the door, Renny looked around. Instinct told him not to call out. He almost did anyway out of habit and manners. Lamps were switched on while the ceiling lights in the immediate rooms were off. He didn't hear anything except for a grandfather clock he thought he remembered seeing in the main living room with a large TV, couches, and chairs.

For some reason he headed for the noise, despite knowing it wasn't one indicating signs of life. No big deal. Maybe he would search and find his phone without bothering anyone in the house. Walking into the room at the front of the house, he recalled watching sports off and on. Renny checked under couch cushions and beneath the couches. No phone. He scanned table surfaces, including the entertainment unit holding the flat screen. No phone. This house was enormous. It could be anywhere.

He stared at the antique clock ticking loud. The home resembled a kind of updated elegant fashion. Everything in the interior had the appearance of nineteenth century Victorian combined with modern touches. The exterior was nothing like that. Sighing, Renny resigned himself to potential hours wasted searching for his stupid, elusive phone. Why couldn't he remember where he left it?!

Moving to the next room, he checked obvious areas of the tea room. He couldn't possibly have spent much time in there though, so quickly gave up for a different room. Renny intended to search the kitchen and dining area. He was walking that way hearing someone shuffling about in there and would ask them if they'd recovered a lost phone. A groan coming from the entrance hall grabbed his attention. Somebody hurt?

There was banging on a window in that same direction. He hadn't noticed a breeze outside but one could have started up and was blowing tree branches against a window. He was doubting whether there were any trees by the windows of the house. Walking through the hall to the front door, the banging abruptly quit to silence.

Wait. He thought sound was coming from above. As he came closer to the stairs going to the second and third floors, he realized it was music. Classical music was playing at a high volume, either from a genuine turntable or a device mimicking the type. Someone must be in the house then.

“Hello?”

Renny cursed, thinking on the number of times he laughed at idiots in the movies calling out for the psycho. Starting up the carpeted staircase, he lightened his steps. He was causing nerves to himself, getting paranoid. He blamed it on the feeling he was alone and yet sensing a presence. It was strange.

He found the music soothing. “Hey! Anybody in the house?”

Whatever. Let 'em know he was here. Maybe he could badger them into aiding the hunt for the missing cell phone, in the kindest manner possible of course. Standing on the second floor, he gazed in both directions, considering where to go. He listened and heard nothing other than the pleasant music.

His feet climbed onward to the third floor, retracing a path he'd taken often for the duration of their stay. He slept in a room on this highest and smallest floor of the house. It was a study turned into a bedroom as well. Renny was happy to be assigned up there because it gave him his own small bathroom complete with toilet and bath. Since he slept there, his phone could have been forgotten there.

The floor had four rooms in total. He assumed the two shut doors were additional bedrooms, but he never actually looked in them. Renny pushed open the door to his bedroom. A travel suitcase and backpack was situated by the twin bed. He was intruding on a new guest's temporary abode it would seem. Figuring it was fine as he wouldn't be long and wasn't doing anything wrong, he searched high and low. No trace of his treasured belonging, and he checked everywhere he could think to look. All his numbers were in that thing.

He wouldn't think it was in the bathroom but he was here, so...

Crossing the hall to the room slightly diagonal to the bedroom/study, he opened the door. A woman curled in the corner by the toilet prompted him to shut it quickly. It was the nearest room to the stairs and he glanced at them for no good reason. Hoping someone would appear to know the lady and help her really.

She groaned. A second groan drawn out caused him to pull open the door an inch. She sounded distressed and in pain. Renny pondered if she was dealing with excess alcohol consumption or a worse ailment.

“Lady..? Um, ma'am? You okay in there? Anything I can do?”

The woman moaned in an exhausted manner and he risked a peek to see her struggling to get up. Her fingers grasped at the wall when she managed to stand. Her hair was matted wet in patches of her pixie cut. She very slowly turned toward him like the action was tiring, chin hanging on her chest. The lady rasped and released an irritated roar as she staggered drunkenly, arm swinging.

He closed the door again. “Sheesh! Sorry to intrude on your privacy, lady.”

Renny faced the opposite direction, peering right and muttering, “I'm going.”

When she finished getting sick in there he could look, although he wouldn't relish the inevitable stench. It was already reeking a bit, foul scent wafting out to the hall. Smelled like something died. For now, he would explore the other two doors he'd never ventured beyond for the hell of it. He still heard that music filling the entire floor and located the door where beyond was the source.

Entering the room, he found what he understood to be the “relaxing room”. The maid who ushered them about the home shared every room available and drew their attention to a map of the house proudly displayed in the entrance hall. Renny remembered this one mentioned because it came across as wholly extra. Standing in the room itself, it certainly seemed “relaxing”.

He thought it cozy and warm from the fire burning, soft crackling and snapping a comfort. The floors were glossy wood, a sofa and rug in front of the fireplace. He approached the sofa two yards away, noting the absence of windows. A high precision turntable rested on a small white table beside a shelf of albums, record spinning the same track on repeat. As a music lover, he could appreciate the valuable possession.

There was no one in here. Two tables were at each end of the sofa. A pair of prescription glasses lay atop a book resting on its pages on one of the tables. Hm. He walked back out of the room and went to the next room. It turned out to be a fantastic game room. Renny was disappointed he didn't discover this place when they were boarders themselves.

Meandering among the overload of options, he marveled at the arcade style video games against the walls the longest. A billiard table, ping pong, and table hockey were in the room's middle. Shelves of board games and small areas in which to play them filled up the remainder of the space. An idea popped into his head that he spent time in the library. _Phone, come on, please be there. After everything we've been through. Come on now._

Renny grabbed the edge of the door to leave. He paused when a purple billiard ball fell off the table, hitting the carpeted floor and rolling to a stop. It rolled number side up, revealing a four. At least it wasn't unlucky number thirteen. He reconsidered. Four is considered unlucky in Japan. Did it count if he wasn't in Japan?

Against his better judgment, he moved farther inside the room to see why the ball fell. Someone was in here. Renny rushed to the man collapsed on his side. An arm lifted to grasp the table to pull himself up. He carefully gripped him by the shoulder and arm to assist. The arm reaching upward went limp and dropped back to the floor. Confused, he began looking for injuries.

The man swung around and upward, snapping at him with his teeth. It was an extra second before he realized the guy was trying to take a bite out of his face. Arms trembling, he kept the guy at length gripping his neck and one of the arms. Guy fought to get him with the other arm. No way was he gonna get his face bitten off.

Just as he felt hot breath on his cheek, Renny lost his balance from the guy's weight hanging on him. He tumbled on top of him and the f-ed fellow groaned while he struggled to right himself. Deciding to kick him in the chest for messing up his day further, hands wrapped around his leg in response. Excellent recovery time, this one.

“Not today!”

The kick tore rotting flesh off the jawbone and it came back to lunge. He'd gained opportunity to move backward in that period of time between his attack and the retaliation. Stumbling as he backpedaled rapidly, he was on the other side of the table nearly stepping on... Renny seized the number four ball and threw it at the sagging face looking at him. It smacked the nose but he didn't wait to see what effect it would have.

He slammed the door shut, leaning on it and breathing heavier than he thought he'd been. His brain was struggling to figure out what was happening with the belligerent guy. Straightening, he made for the staircase. Maybe the house has a phone or else he would need to hoof it to someone who did have a phone to call for help. The bathroom door creaked, pushed open into the hallway while he was walking by. Outstretched arms reached for him and Renny swung about, dipping lower.

“Holy frickin' zombie!”

His brain clicked it together. These people had gotten sick, infected. T-Virus or some similar variant. Backing away down the hall in the direction of the stairs, he grabbed his gun from the shoulder holster beneath his jacket. He brushed his hair with the fingers on the other hand, feeling nervous. His positive vibes were failing him here. Who did this?

The lady's shirt was soaked through in a large spot with blood. It formed a circular pattern surrounding a hole in her chest. A bullet wound killed her. Bullets usually meant the presence of a higher level of intelligence. He lifted the barrel and aimed for the forehead. A shot would give away his position if anyone was within earshot. The music wasn't loud enough to cover that kind of sound. He couldn't leave her like she was now. He'd just have to hope the person or persons responsible vacated the premises.

She landed making a loud thud, her brains blown out. A bullet whizzed by his head. He spun and fired blindly toward the bottom of the stairs where the shot came. A very human person in full gear and a gray outfit with a ski mask, helmet, and goggles stood there staring. Rooted to the spot a moment, he contemplated whether it was a more advanced infected. Renny pointed his gun quickly upward and to the left of the guy, who jerked and checked the direction. Ah. Regular human. Infected weren't superb at situational awareness.

Guy realized he shouldn't be looking that way and focused on him to shoot. Renny realized he shouldn't be stood in the open that way a half a second quicker. Fuck his phone. He had to get out intact, avoiding mercenaries wanting to kill him.

Swinging around the wall he was sheltering behind, he didn't quit shooting until Alex's mercenary got hit and fell. These people were terrorists and he didn't like terrorists of any sort. Hustling down the stairs, he spotted a second mercenary loitering in the hall, speaking into an earpiece. He quieted his steps and continued for the front door, irritated they had an instant method to communicate.

A frickin' zombie lumbered out of the kitchen, drawing fire from a third mercenary somewhere he couldn't see. Dropping into a crouch, he studied the glass doors directly ahead. Shadows were moving behind them. Zombies? The door to the outside was on his right, so close, and it was opening. No good.

He changed paths and saw the library, going inside and hoping nobody witnessed him do that. The large room's lights were on but it was quiet, seemingly empty. There wasn't a viable exit strategy here so he would have to go back out when it was safer. He started listening at the door. The wood was too thick. Renny cracked the door open to peek through. Big mistake.

Spotted, he cursed and ran to hide among the shelves. Lamenting how he was mostly a pilot and not super skilled with “field work”, he hunkered down where he could see anyone who entered. No one entered. Certain it would happen sooner rather than later, he continued to wait. His mind wandered as a result, and he thought of his old friends Chris and Leena. Her forced betrayal and death devastated him, yet he held her accountable for her part in Chris's abduction. She could have asked for help, called the police, or at a minimum warned Chris.

He heard the door, distracted when he saw his cell phone laying under a table close to him. Kneeling, he crawled forward and tried to turn it on. The battery was dead. From beneath the table, he could see the legs of three men wearing the matching gray attire across the room.

“We know you're here, Keith. Why don't you stop hiding?”

These people were possibly watching the place and observed his arrival. Identifying him though; he wasn't a fan of that. He thought he remembered two entrances to the library on the schematic map. They only ever utilized the main door so he could be remembering incorrectly.

Renny almost laughed. The door was five yards off and easy to see. It would require moving into view of the mercenaries to reach. They could see him already, actually. The table refused to make him invisible. He stood, gun tight in his right hand, held waist-level.

“Polo?”

“Don't be clever,” the guy minus face covering said, adjusting the brim of his cap. “Tell me, where has Chris gone this time?”

Renny was wise to Chris's hero denial, wise to his fragmented state of mind. He held bemusement for whatever relationship existed between him and Wesker. He was also loyal and not stupid. That was Alex Wesker and he'd kill him without blinking.

“Nah, I-”

He dashed for the other exit during his bullshit reply. It felt as if a truck slammed him, sending him into a long desk and chair. Alex pulled the chair out of the way and advanced to grab his crumpled self dealing with a spinning head. The enemy before him disappeared. Well that was not possible.

“Get up right now.”

An arm yanked him mercilessly to his feet by the forearm. He fought the bile rising when his body protested the reorientation. The ambiguous fella who appeared to be their ally shoved him at the door. Catching himself on the door frame with an outstretched palm, he looked to Mr. Aryan Race. He seemed a little redder in the eyes than he recalled.

“Leave,” he stated blunt, turning for a violent confrontation with the aggressively evil Wesker.

Not needing to be told twice, Renny pushed through the door. He steered clear of the front door, not trusting it would be safe. Seeing the windows on the far right portion of the house, he hurried to open one and slithered to the thick grass below. The window was low to the ground and he managed the exit fairly quiet.

He hardly made it a few feet when voices quickened his pace. Tugging the guest house door open, Renny only remembered hearing a kind of disturbance within the building once he was inside. A big vase-shaped pot containing dirt and plant had been toppled. The woman tied to a chair which was laying on its side atop the mess clued him in she must have generated the noise heard earlier.

“Miss? Are you okay?”

Brown hair blocked her face. She was tall, slim, and er..attractively busty. Her cleavage was immense and he averted his gaze to the face section. She wore night clothes of an oversized jersey and short shorts, feet bare. Renny crossed the room and cautiously turned her over, scratching his stubble. He'd guess she was in her mid-twenties. He had no idea why she was trapped to a chair in here.

Soft groaning and her eyes opened to half slits. “Who's there?”

“Name's Renny. I'm gonna get you outta here, yeah?”

She mumbled, “Yeah... Help me.”

“On it, beauty.” He put his arms under her shoulders and brought her to her feet. She sagged, unable to stand on her own, and he slung one of her arms over his shoulder. “Don't go to pieces on me now.”

“They..drugged me.” The woman clung weakly to him and he began the slow walk to the door.

It would be harder to go undetected. He leaned her on the wall and opened the door to look outside. He listened to talking in the distance. Beauty leaned drowsily, arms wrapped around her stomach. She stared at the ground in a daze.

“I tell everyone I'm a stupendous chef now, but I only know like three recipes, ya know?”

Her eyes drifted as far as his neck before returning to the floor. Progress?

“We have to go, okay?”

She nodded and let him help her move by carrying some of her weight. Renny led them out of the house and walked at a snail's pace along the driveway to the front gate. They were sitting ducks if anyone saw them. Which they did. But friendlies.

“You guys?!” he uttered in confusion.

“Deborah!”

Stunned, he felt the lady pulled from him and into the embrace of Agent Harper. Captain Nivans jogged up to them and his unpleasant expression shifted to a somewhat relieved look. Keeping the sniper rifle in his grasp lowered, the soldier watched their surroundings on alert.

“You know her?” he asked, aware they must know each other.

“She's my sister,” Harper explained, breaking the hug to study her sister's condition. “Deborah, are you alright?”

Grunting, the younger woman shook her head. “Thirsty.”

“I'll find some water once we're safe.”

Silence. Then not. Gunshots inside the main house drew their attention. It proved a distraction for enough time the mercenary was able to come round the far side of that building. Spotting them immediately in the wide open space of the driveway despite the cloudy sky turning to dusk, they saw the rifle take aim.

Another mercenary popped out from hiding behind a big stone pot holding flowers and grabbed the agent. He put a handgun to her head, threatening to shoot if they didn't surrender. The mercenary farther away slightly lowered his rifle and approached, still casually aiming.

“Helena...”

“Don't worry, Deborah,” the captain assured. “We're here for you.”

“I'm not right.”

Although she couldn't react much, the agent twisted in a small attempt to reach her sister before settling at staring. “What? What do you mean? We're getting out of here. It'll be okay.”

“So..THIRSTY!” she practically bellowed, leaping for her sister.

She gripped her throat, squeezing tight, eyes alarmingly bloodshot. Startled and angry, the mercenary released Helena and tried to yank on Deborah's arm to take her instead. He probably regretted that when she twirled and leapt on him, chomping into his throat. Falling, his screaming cut off as she chowed down on his throat, slurping noises emerging in her greed to lap up every last drop of flowing blood.

Soldier Boy shot her in the chest, reducing Agent Harper to hysteric tears. He yanked her out of the way. The bullet missed the heart and a growling, salivating infected charged the guy. She did not look well at all, black veins spreading and branching across her body in visible spots. A gang of mercenaries emerged from the front entrance of the house, guns firing in broad sweeps. Their friendly neighborhood mercenary strode out and engaged them in hand to hand, or technically knife to gun. That guy was nuts.

A sniper shot pegged Deborah in the forehead. She collapsed and Renny returned his attention to the remaining mercenaries still a threat. Krauser stiffened and suddenly used his super speed to dart far from the enemy. The grenade launcher eliminated the danger. Leon S. Kennedy to the rescue. What a big damn hero.

“Leon!” Harper held her deceased sister in her arms, kneeling on the ground. “How did you find us?”

“Hunnigan. You should have reported this to the DSO, Helena. We would have gotten here sooner. Helped.”

“I didn't know where she was,” the agent bitterly said. “They were moving her around. Goddamn them. They infected her. Bastards...”

Krauser strolled over, smiling in greeting. He decided it was as good a time as any to ask a concern of his.

“Undead in the house, would that be an airborne virus or..?”

“Judging by the gas mask mercs present earlier and the lack of that protection now, we're good.”

“Where have you been?” Leon asked. “You were MIA a few days. Why?”

Krauser pulled a knife and tossed it in the air, catching it. “I quarantined myself until I was no longer contagious.”

“Quarantine? For what?” questioned Nivans.

“C-Virus. That Nova bitch gave it to me. Damn animals, eh?”

Renny scanned the scene of a perturbed Leon and a nonplussed Krauser playing with his combat knife. His attempt to save Deborah ended in failure and Helena was struggling to regain her composure. Captain Nivans looked troubled, surveying the carnage in the yard and surely speculating on the number of innocent victims within the house. He thought to bring a little levity to the gloomy atmosphere.

“Well hey, if anyone's wondering what _I'm_ doing here, I lost my phone.”

No one even looked his way. Better to take joy in the small things.

He smiled victorious regardless of the zero interest. “I found it.”

They bothered to glance in his direction. Victory.


	17. Belief

_Sterling, Colorado_

The rain was inevitable. Chris turned from the window and got in the spare room's bed. Lying on his back, he didn't entertain thoughts of sleep. He feared waking in a cold sweat or in tears, although by now he was pretty confident he had no tears left.

Earlier that day, he carried Eva to her bed and covered her. He kissed her on the cheek before leaving to come to this room to wait for night. Conversation with the others was not something he was interested in then. What the young woman didn't understand was she felt like a stranger to him.

His only comfort was his mind wholly belonged to himself. He wanted to grant the world its freedom the way it is. That had to be better than what would happen if everything got destroyed. Alex was out there and required stopping. It was his responsibility to see it through and fight Alex to defeat. Chris would fight, keep going, because he was good at it.

Although he did not sleep nor rest, his mind wandered.

_Bold disobedience upset Alex at first. The sheer determination Chris had to hold himself intact upon waking in the hands of a mad man tried his patience. He'd expected the former BSAA agent to withstand torture for a time: perhaps a few months. Months turned into years. The upset became rage and then a strange calm._

_“What would hurt you the most?”_

_Chris lifted his eyes to the rack. Tools lined up in a row for his individual torment. There were others who came and went, always taken out in body bags. This monster loved causing pain to innocent people, and he loved making him suffer._

_Passing up the electric torture for the session, he thought it might mean beatings. Alex ignored the whips and chains to wander over to a table supplied with bottles and syringes. There were drugs that made him feel like his insides were burning and there were drugs that caused hallucinations and confusion. The tiny room was freezing cold, exacerbated by his lack of clothes. He got used to the nudity ages ago and the cold was at least familiar, if never really adapted to. His torturer liked to switch it up. One week a hot room, a different week cold. Starvation was the most common move. He'd easily been able to go days missing food without much thought during his BSAA days or vigilante group days. But true starvation was horribly painful to endure._

_One thing Alex couldn't decide was whether he should tell him the length of time he'd kept him locked away or not. Sometimes he told him the date and sometimes he refused to reveal what time had passed. It was clear imprisoning someone as long as he did was not a regular occurrence. However, he acted like a pro, self-assured and unrelenting in his cruelty._

_“What's on the agenda for today?”_

_Alex put his back to the table to look at him. He didn't approve of impoliteness and humor. What a buzzkill kind of guy. Some people may have said the same thing about him and his work-obsessed lifestyle in the past. Chris fought to be funny to maintain his sanity. He'd be defiant until the day he died._

_A scowl overtook his pleasant expression. “We're going on a trip.”_

_“Oh? Please say Hawaii. Hell, I'll take the deserts of Arizona or remote Alaska.”_

_“Today is your execution day.”_

_His weak smile fell. “Compelling. Tell me more.”_

_Alex broadly smiled. “It's simple. We've made no progress. Time to end this. On your feet.”_

_Chris was pulled to his feet by the arm. It hurt to stand on his feet bearing fresh wounds. “Wasting all of this?”_

_Forcing him along to a dim and dirty corridor full of cobwebs and dust, he was set on his knees. Ow. He wiped sweat from his forehead and the back of his hand returned red from the perspiration wetting dry blood. Cuts and broken bones never lasted because of the healing ability. His power was a curse in this hell._

_Two C-Virus infected guards appeared, forcing a confused and terrified young man to join them. They dropped him on his knees too and bracketed him on both sides. Alex blocked his view of them and examined Chris._

_“What's that they say? Hm... Do you have any last words?”_

_He stared at the ground, annoyed he was sweating over this asshole's threat. So what if he killed him? He wouldn't have to be in pain anymore. But he didn't want to die. Damn it. This bastard was going to be the one to do him in?_

_Alex turned to a crate which he opened and surveyed for his choice. Chris swallowed, seeing the assortment of blades and guns contained inside. He stooped over to select an item he would use to kill him. Inhaling the musty air, he squirmed against his wrist bindings. He hated this was how it would end._

_“Last chance,” he said, choosing a samurai sword out of the wide selection. “Don't want to die without expressing your final sentiments, do you? Even a death row prisoner gets to speak before they're wiped from the planet. It's a courtesy.”_

_“You say the sweetest things..dick.”_

_Chris was gratified to see the eye roll of frustration. He never could get through to him. Alex was playing a fool's game. He would forever be strong enough to remember who he was and what he stood for..and against._

_“How mature. Well,” Alex moved to stand behind him and put the blade to the back of his neck. “It's a shame our time together couldn't be productive. Farewell, Chris.”_

_He shut his eyes, trying to hide his emotions. A laugh and the bottom of a boot shoved him forward to the ground. Hands tugged him back onto his knees by the throat, squeezing a bit before releasing. Patting him on the hair, he strolled to the guards and their poor captive. With a wave of his hand, the guards stepped aside. Smiling at Chris, Alex stabbed the blade in his stomach and cut._

_Organs spilled into his lap and on the floor, making him gag. He swallowed several times to quit it. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of catching him sickened or afraid. Finishing the job, the kid was decapitated in a single swing._

_“That's how they did it in samurai times I think,” Alex contemplated with a shrug. “Did you enjoy the execution?”_

_“Go to hell!”_

_Alex tossed the sword at a guard. “Clean that.”_

_Glaring furiously at the murderer, it only pleased him. “I've figured it out.”_

_“Figured what out?” he snarled._

_“You don't break a man like you through brute force or physical torture. You break someone like you by breaking others.”_

“Chris? You awake?”

He sat up and peered through the dark room to the doorway where light leaked in. It was difficult to ascertain what Eva he was getting. She'd been all over the place with her emotions since returning from her aunt's house. In the morning she could be argumentative and obstinate, by lunch she could be normal and denying anything was wrong, by dinner she'd lapse into silent depression to express hatred for most everything, and later on she would express a peaceful attitude.

“Yeah.”

“We should talk about our children. I know how out of nowhere it feels to hear you've got kids. We were barely together, barely married. I mean, I get it if..if it doesn't mean the same to you. Does that make sense?”

It was easy to know he wasn't alone thinking they might as well be complete strangers after all these years. But she believed in him more than he gave her credit for. He was occupied struggling to believe in the world at large. Not her fault, however, she was trying to repair their relationship. Chris fought mental battles daily to become as normal as possible again. Family bonding time was low on the list, cruel as that may sound.

“I've reached the point where I know I can live like a human being. I don't know for sure about anything else.”

“Okay... But you have kids.”

“I know,” he replied quickly, irritated. He didn't need a constant reminder.

Eva came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed just enough to not slide off. She looked at his face, not quite at his eyes. “However we are now, which can be whatever you need, I just want us to be a family.”

“I shouldn't be around children, right? I don't cope good. I drink too much to make the memories go away. I don't sleep well. I... You know what else I've done to try and feel better. It's not good.”

She suddenly found her fingernails fascinating. “I know and I don't care. Time heals all wounds, right?”

Laughing, she dropped her hands on her lap and met his gaze. “Forget that. I do know who you are, Chris. You have to regain your confidence in all things, not simply making it through the day. Okay. I hope you know we look forward to the future now that you're back.”

“You guys kept living your lives while I was gone and seem happy. That's something that made me relieved when I saw it. No one else suffered in the meantime.”

“We look forward to a future with you in it, Chris. That's what I mean.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh.”

Eva smiled. “Good?”

“How old are they? They'd have to be..nearly six now? That's an age you know stuff. I don't know how to be a father.”

“Wesker never learned either. You don't want to be like him, do you?”

Chris got the impression she was testing him. She wanted a specific answer to be satisfied. She'd be pleased to hear he had the answer she wanted and meant it.

“I never want to be like that bastard. Uh, sorry. Your dad, but, heh, yeah.”

“Go with me to my aunt's house and meet the kids. Their names are Donovan Christopher Redfield and Aly Jane Redfield. I call them D and Al most of the time. They're brilliant kids and they've seen a picture of you. You don't have to stay there long. When they come home, you don't have to stay here either if you're not comfortable. We can take it slow and work up to more, you know? No big deal.”

It didn't sound like the worst thing. Her request was reasonable and he was their biological father, no matter how he felt about the idea of having children. He had a responsibility to be a father to them. Maybe he could attempt bonding with the foreign to him little humans. Hunting Alex and taking him down would have to wait.

“Okay. I could probably do that.”

She smiled big. “Great. I'll let you sleep.” Standing after patting his knee, she beamed. “Goodnight, Chris.”

He watched her leave. Why did he have to struggle with every single emotion and thought? Chris laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling while the minutes passed and sleep continued to elude.

_Chris picked himself up off the floor. This week Alex spent every single day raping him in a multitude of ways. Mostly he just anal raped him with his dick. He didn't dare rape his mouth knowing the damage he'd take if he shoved the filthy thing down his throat. A couple times he threatened to bring something to hold his mouth open but he never bothered to carry through on the threat. The monster was busy coming up with new methods of sexual torment._

_Throwing the bloody pipe away, Chris heard metal clang against the wall. He opened his eyes to find Alex stroke at his penis in his pants before grunting dissatisfaction and zipping up. Fixing his belt into proper place allowed him to relax, sagging on the far wall. Belt in place signified he was bored and couldn't get aroused again._

_“Tired of being worthless?” Alex asked rhetorically. “Everyone gave up looking for you a long time ago. You aren't worth even a year of searching. That must sting.”_

_He talked at him in this manner a lot. Ever since throwing him in an animal cage in between testing. Alex unnecessarily utilized his super speed to appear beside him, connecting an elbow to his shoulder. Chris slammed into the wall and a hand started groping his chest while the other hand rubbed and cupped his groin._

_“Your friend Ms. Chambers died yesterday. I made a car accident happen. Now she can join your sister in the afterlife.”_

_Chris grimaced at the unwanted touches and strained to pretend he couldn't feel a thing. Alex was lying. He wouldn't accept any news of deaths as real from this guy. Just the week before, Alex let him think he was to be executed for what must have been the seventh time of his captivity. As the other times, he executed a poor soul in his place to hurt him._

_The grip tightened below and he clenched his teeth to bear the pain. Alex leaned close to his cheek, speaking in a low voice. “P30 is beginning to work on your system and you know it.”_

_He stared straight ahead, fearing his words. His torture had become less and less with the increase of experimental doses. Starvation kept on because his captor forgot to feed him regularly. It went on for so long Chris found himself alone in a passageway outside the testing room, dead infected guards lying dismembered. He was discovered confused and full, and Alex seemed proud he sought out what he needed for sustenance. Trapped with a predator, an evil sadist self-obsessed and embracing insanity, he tried to ignore the emerging despair._

_“What would hurt you the most, Chris?” asked Alex, as he often did. “I think we're getting there.”_

_Locked back in the cage across from the only friend he had there, he stared at Nova and the wolf stared back. His emotions seemed to drain out of him and he felt so calm. Thoughts crossed his mind about the possibility he would spend the rest of his life here. He loathed his immortality as he had no desire to live forever, even before this cold imprisonment. The R-Virus infection condemned him to an eternity of living and fighting and failing to age. He wanted his old life back._

_Chris planned to accomplish what he could in his life and retire in peace one day when he was older. That was a faraway dream now. His worries faded and he broke the gaze to curl on his side to rest. He wished to dream of nice things, but he rarely slept well enough to bring dreams._

Chris woke to rays of morning sun warming his face and the sheets. He slept after all. No nightmares. Standing by the window, he noted many thick clouds loomed in the sky. The light managed to break through.

Dressing in a crumpled t-shirt and sweatpants laying on the floor, he headed for the door. Stretching his arms above his head, he yawned while walking down the hall toward the kitchen. He could go for some cereal.

The doorbell rang when he was in the main hallway. Two directions. One led him to food and the other led him to the front entrance. Sighing at the delay in eating, he turned to the door to answer.

Captain Nivans was on the other side, surprised to be immediately face to face with Chris. “H-hello. Chris Redfield, hi.”

“That would be me, yes.”

“H-how are you?”

His stare spurred him to control the odd behavior. “Ah, sorry. I came to check in.”

“Still fine,” he replied dryly. “Looking good for a trauma-riddled former terrorist.”

“Don't say that,” Nivans insisted. “You're not a terrorist.”

“Right, just a victim. Great.”

This soldier from the DSO military branch appeared well-meaning. His ability to conduct investigations was decent. He might be fairly skilled in the field. But the man couldn't help him except telling his superiors Chris didn't deserve being held accountable for crimes committed. A thing he wasn't on board with himself. Even knowing everyone was right saying he didn't know what he was doing and he hadn't been in control of his actions, the guilt stuck close.

“Another reason I stopped by was to deliver a vehicle. Leon sent in the request and after what happened with Helena, we felt obligated to agree.”

“How is Helena?”

“Not well. She'll be okay though, eventually.” Nivans stepped off the porch and gestured to the black SUV parked on the street. “Try not to total this one.”

“I didn't know you were capable of joking.”

He grinned. “Everybody's capable of joking.”

Chris chuckled at that. “I guess so.”

“Hey listen,” the captain said, looking back. “You do what is right. You always have. Everything will be fine with you eventually too.”

He met his gaze. “You're a good man, Captain Nivans.”

“You can call me Piers.” He looked at the ground and then him, before looking forward to where he was going. “I'll see you around.”

_His determination to perpetuate he wasn't sure what for. Tyrant watched him slump on the armchair in front of the television and continued to stand like the giant stiff he was. He was less an entertainment source for Alex and more exclusively a means to an end. He always was that means, but his supposed ally was becoming focused on his goal for immortality._

_Supposed ally. Chris thought he remembered threatening this man that he would kill him with a knife to the skull. His protector was his shadow after they moved to the new laboratory beneath a house. He wasn't normal, and something told him he wasn't normal either. They were slaves to the weird-eyed man?_

_That man entered the room and gripped his arm and hand, snapping his wrist. He didn't blink, treatment such as this common. His bone returned into place on its own, healing rapidly. Alex was discussing a control formula and his enhanced healing properties._

_“Legend.”_

_He frowned at him. “My name is Chris.”_

_The content smile vanished and he put his back to him to open a small case removed from his jacket. “It's time for your medicine.”_

_He stared at the needle approaching his skin. A voice in his head screamed for him not to let it happen. Alex wanted to use him to learn how to make himself more powerful. There was a plan to make Chris a perfect assassin. A memory of fighting a man with the same eyes as Alex came into his mind. It was difficult to hold onto memories, brain saving no spare room for anything but survival. What was he fighting for?_

_Injected with the fluid, the other smiled pleasantly. “What would hurt you the most?”_

_He didn't understand what he could mean._

Chris sat crunching the cereal and swallowed, thinking. Eva and Renny were watching TV in the room next door. The latter was looking for a nothing day following a surprise eventful time yesterday. The former was fingering the diamond necklace she wore. He gave that to her. The lamp in that room too. Those days felt like another lifetime past. Why could he remember people like Jill and Wesker more easily?

A picture put back in its place on the wall of the kitchen was of Eva and two small kids. _His_ kids. Crazy. He had two children he was supposed to get to know and maybe even raise. Intimidating. Scary.

He dropped the spoon in the empty bowl. Something was wrong. Moving quickly, he went down the hallway and opened the door to the kids' bedroom where the noise came from. Chris instantly spotted the window ajar. His attention shifted to a teddy bear leaned on the pillow of the boy's bed. A survival knife had been stabbed into the head of the stuffed animal, pinning a piece of paper to it. Written on the paper was one question he heard Alex ask him countless times.


	18. Redemption

It had been threatening rain for days. No actual precipitation, just clouds. He thought today might be the day it finally happened. Seemed suitable. It was supposed to rain on sad days and Eva would call this a sad day. Chris had to go and she'd hate him forever, but so be it. Saving the world was ingrained in him and was what he had to do.

Some hours passed since he handed her the teddy bear. He'd removed the knife and handed the note to her along with the bear. She called her aunt and a police officer picked up the phone. Natasha was injured and with paramedics but would be okay. The two children she was caring for were abducted. After that, the first call she made was to her father, then she called the rest of them. Once, turning him into a terrorist hurt him the most. Not presently.

He resigned himself to fight for the children he never met but felt responsible to protect. Fighting was what he was good at and he could do that to save Eva's kids. The way he was now, vulnerably human as he was, it might not end well for him. Alex was strong and the potential cost of confrontation was his life. He deserved to die after the things he did. Erasing them both would be doing the world a favor and be a benefit to all. Chris wasn't looking for death, he just knew he was mostly human. The healing ability worked too slow to be useful in a fight. Alex was..something else.

Everyone had gathered in the house, standing or sitting throughout the kitchen, dining room, or living room. Chris took a head count. Jill, Jake, Billy, Sherry, Claire, Barry, Eva, Rebecca, Leon, Renny, and Krauser. Everybody waiting on information. They were thinking about the endangered kids. He was ashamed to be thinking about drinking blood. The thought sickened him, the memories of doing it in the past could sometimes make him violently ill. But blood had the potential to strengthen his abilities to make him more similar to the heartless mercenary and assassin he was for Alex. It was tempting for the help it would be in a difficult fight.

The front door opened and shut and Wesker strode to the end of the hall, greeting them with a bland stare. He dialed a number and put the phone face up on the table. No one said a word, listening to the phone ring a couple times before someone answered.

“Yo.”

“Is this Collins or Gilford?”

“What?” the voice on the other end exclaimed in exaggerated fashion. “My man, this is Carter, of course!”

Wesker appeared to be finding this tedious. “Which one is Carter?” He changed his mind instantly. “Oh it doesn't matter.”

“Carter is Collins,” Chris recalled, the knowledge popping into his brain. “Remy Gilford is his partner.”

“How useful.”

Chris would not roll his eyes or get irritated. Gilford and Collins were kind men whose desire to freelance with their military skills got them in an undesirable assignment. They were part of keeping him prisoner up to the point they realized that was what they were doing. They'd thought they were protecting his well-being and preventing him from accidentally hurting uninvolved parties. They'd been very wrong.

“Uh...” the voice said from the phone. “You called for the information, yeah? Mr. Arias will know we helped and settle his crazy ass down?”

Wesker smirked and shrugged a bit, although he couldn't be seen by the man on the phone. “Perhaps. Be useful.”

Collins cleared his throat, sounding uncomfortable. “Okay. So here's what we know. Archer moved transports between California and Washington ports. Government chatter says Seattle got itself taken hostage. The desire to launch a precision strike is being held off 'cause there's a threat to release a biological agent should entry be made. It's very quiet on the public front. They'll keep the terrorist attack on U.S. soil contained as long as they can from civilians and media.”

“Details, Collins. You're proving useless.”

“Hey, hey. Chill, man. Alright, so... Location of the bioweapon isn't known. They suspect the Columbia Center is a viable placement. Terrorist gunmen have claimed every police precinct inside the city as their own and locked them down with law enforcement officers for hostages. You got a government agent so he's bound to be able to get you more intelligence on specifics.”

“Are you telling me you can't be useful?”

“Aw, come on, man. Nah. So... Archer likes destroying beautiful things. Tries to make 'em ugly. Um... Chris is kinda better now, ya? He spent the most time with the psycho. Ask him, man.”

“Hm... Acceptable.”

“Hey. Do you know how he found out about my kids?”

“Oh, Chris, you're there.” Someone else was speaking. It must be Gilford. “Ah, sorry... Didn't see that guy has a few screws loose...”

Chris remained adamant. “Do you know how?”

“One of the days you tracked those scientists on their field assignments to get access to the labs. We had to file reports any time we recovered you. He must have read more into it than we wrote and put together who Eva Jane really was. Traced family connections from there.”

“Alright,” he uttered, not knowing what to say.

It was quiet a couple seconds and then Collins said, “I hope you succeed in stopping the destruction of an American city, guys. Good luck.”

He hung up and Wesker looked at Chris. “Do you know what Alex would do?”

Instead of responding right away, he adjusted a strap on his vest. This was the attire Alex had him wear. These were the weapons he was given by that bastard.

“Show me a map. Show me what the city looks like from the air.”

Jake was fastest to scroll on his tablet and bring up the asked for images. He moved to the man's side of the table to examine them and Leon's phone rang. He answered and left the room to take the call. Chris didn't want to know Alex Wesker and he certainly hated being in his head. Might as well take advantage.

“They could be right about the weapon location. Columbia Center is a good guess. We have no way to know that though. I'd say Bank of America building and Two Union Square are fair guesses too. Whichever building, he'll be at the top.”

Chris knew Alex would not be inside the city. He'd be somewhere safer, out of the blast radius. There were a few hundred people hired to follow his orders. A fighting force of believers in his bid for a new world order or simply believers in money.

“My pick would be the bank. He's banking the kids there for the intention of claiming America for himself in the meantime. It's the kind of thing he'd do thinking he's clever.”

Leon appeared in the hall, phone held near his ear but the receiver covered. “Do you think we could get it done or should we let the government launch a stealth strike?”

He shook his head. “If they go in, he'll launch an attack and a lot of people will die. We need the city evacuated first. Convince them we go in ourselves. Alex will allow it if it's us.”

“How can you be sure?” asked Eva.

“Because he would appreciate the opportunity to kill the people who matter to me.”

Leon disappeared again, speaking into the phone, “Hear me out. Red Team is your best bet.”

He couldn't hear anymore. Chris looked down at the tablet. “We need to check all three buildings, and we need to get to the police precincts and free the hostages. The police can evacuate the city.”

“That's stretching us pretty thin,” Rebecca pointed out.

“And we'll need everybody,” he replied, meeting Jake's gaze. “Once we can get the network up and running for outside contact to resume, I want you to coordinate the police and evacuation process. Think you can take charge?”

The younger man seemed surprised anyone was asking him to do anything. He'd assumed himself useless with his wheelchair status. Chris set his hand on his shoulder to reassure this wasn't pity but necessity.

Jake's mouth curled into a smile. “Damn right I can do it.”

“Good.”

“Chris.”

He glanced her way but didn't respond for a moment, looking at Claire and the others.

“Leon can get you a line to the FBI and they'll get you where you need to be, Jake.” He considered. “That leaves Claire and Eva who shouldn't be in the field but will do what they can. Claire, you stay here not moving much with Jake. Don't push yourself. You have a long recovery process ahead. Don't be dumb. You can assist him maintaining open communication between dispatched units out there, from here.”

“Gee, thanks, brother.”

“Jill and Barry, you'll scope out Two Union Square. Find nothing, move on to precincts and the evacuation process. Renny and Krauser will investigate the Columbia building. Wesker, Leon, and Eva will see if the kids are held in the bank.” He paused, hoping it indicated how much he believed the children would be in that particular building, before continuing. “Billy, Rebecca, and Sherry. It's up to you three to help the police retake their precincts. Work as a team; be smart.”

The leadership role he held in the past was coming back to him like a second skin. It was a little intimidating. He was most familiar with caring for his own survival in recent years. Leon returned.

“The president is reluctant to allow it but he's given his permission. Twelve hours. If he doesn't hear from us or we haven't made progress, they're moving forward with their own plan.”

“Then we'd better get started,” Billy declared, getting to his feet.

“Right. There's no way Alex will be where the hostages are and he's the immediate threat. I'm gonna follow my instincts and find where he is.”

“Whoa, wait. Chris, just stop.”

Eva approached and gripped his forearm with the good arm. He could tell she'd been about to do it with both hands but remembered her temporary handicap. Letting the hand slide along his arm, she grasped his hand.

“If you want to be with us, then _be_ with us. Come with me and find your children.”

He looked over her head. “It's not that simple.”

Her eyes narrowed and the hand released his and went to her hip. “Sometimes it is.”

Chris would rather not have this conversation in front of everyone. “If I went with you I would be betraying my conscience.”

This was how he helped her, how he would be the guy she wanted a final time. Alex scared him enough that he knew death was always a possibility when going against him. She was riling up for an argument out of concern. It was nice to have someone care for him.

“Eva, I have to do this.”

Her expression flattened and a smile she managed. An authentic one.

“Alright, Chris. I'll get our kids. You track that asshole down.”

Chris turned around and walked to the front door. He opened it and stopped. Looking toward the people standing in the house he couldn't quite accept yet, allies who fought for the same cause he did today, he tried to smile for them.

“Goodbye.”

The door closed harder than he intended. Heading for the street, he considered how he would borrow a car and charter a plane. Seattle was a few hours away. The nation takeover wouldn't succeed. This would be the end of Alex Wesker's threat if it was the last thing he did.

“The Chris Redfield I know would never abandon innocent lives to danger.”

He looked across the yard to a man standing outside his vehicle. “Captain- Piers. What are you doing here?”

“Never left the area. I thought sticking around might be a good idea. You seemed...” He changed the direction of his words. “Running off without everybody else is reckless.”

“People would agree I am reckless.”

“Well, you need a partner.” Piers patted the hood of his car. “Let's move.”

“I can't ask you to do that. It will be dangerous. Alex won't be playing around this time.”

Piers grinned and opened the passenger door before walking to the driver's side. “A strong reason you shouldn't go alone.”

“Hey, guess we better get going.”

Chris stared at Leon shutting the front door and coming to stand with him. “I volunteered to be the government's inside man on the Redfield team they very hesitantly hired to put their confidence in.”

Observing the vexation on his face, the DSO agent smirked and offered a thumbs up. “You think Claire or Eva will accept anything less?”

He caved and gave a dismissive wave and sigh at that gesture. The three got in the vehicle and drove to the airport. Leon was on the phone a fair portion of the journey and they hurried on the awaiting plane. Traveling through the air took too long. His impatience grew as he waited for the moment to come to do the thing he could do for his family and friends.

Chris knew Alex well enough to know what strategy he would implement. His hostages would be discarded like an afterthought, positioned as a diversion. The plan would begin elsewhere and in that place his forces were strongest, his bioweapon prepared for use and his actual presence found. He had to fight to his last breath and eliminate the threat that would converge on his team should he fail. A failure here wasn't an option.

Landing at Yakima Air Terminal, they were met by a sheriff's deputy in a marked Ford Explorer. Yakima was the closest available airport to the city and the deputy was fidgety and anxious for his brethren trapped in their precincts. He drove them onto the interstate toward Seattle. While the populous city couldn't evacuate under their current predicament, nearby cities including Tacoma were in the process of evacuation.

He recalled his ex-handlers giving the sentiment their old boss liked making beautiful things ugly. They were right. Alex would see the world burn before he ever surrendered power. Speaking of ugly, it was cloudy weather here too. He missed the sun. His eyes caught sight of a snow-capped mountain in the distance.

“Go that way.”

The cop peeked in his mirror at him. “What was that you said?”

Chris leaned forward in his seat so he could not be misunderstood. “The mountain,” he looked to Leon in the front passenger seat, saying, “Check the GPS for landmarks. Alex ruins good things.”

It didn't take much time for Leon to share a national park among the list of options. Perking up, Chris nodded to himself and sat back in his seat. He smiled just a little.

“There.”

Leon paused reading. “Which one?”

“Rainier. The park. Go there.”

Piers was clearly tempted to ask questions. He didn't and the deputy diverted the car off 90 and onto a different road. The drive took another hour and he kept himself still, staring directly ahead or out the window at nothing. When he pulled into a side road to park, he leaned over the steering wheel and glanced through the windshield.

“Want me to come with you fellas?”

“No,” Piers replied quickly. “We've got it from here.”

Outside the vehicle, they started walking. It was Chris's idea to explore this place but Leon led them onward. He seemed to have an inkling of a feeling or suspicion. This park was close and yet far from Seattle. Alex would be safe from any blast radius or infection zone. He had to be around. Maybe. Hopefully.

Ascending an uneven, grassy slope, the small army was suddenly there. Chris studied the open fields with colorful flowers. He heard streaming water nearby. It was a shame to mess up this beauty. He didn't usually stop to smell the roses or anything, but he did now.

They were facing incredibly bad odds. Hired guns with rifles and mounted machine gun turrets. No real cover. Alex was expecting him. The years together let him learn things about Chris in turn. One of the mercenary soldiers came forward, holding his gun lowered. Within range to be heard, he lifted the visor on his helmet to see them better.

“Mr. Redfield?”

“Yeah?”

Zeroing in on the proper man among the three, he continued, “I've been ordered to offer you opportunity to surrender. Lay down your weapons and accompany me. I will take you to Archer.”

There was no surrendering here. No surrendering for any of them. Alex knew this. He knew he would fight. He intended to kill him from the start. Once free from the drug's control and his influence, it could only lead to this battle. Inevitability. Ugh.

Leon and Piers were staring toward the soldiers numbered in the hundreds. They didn't look poised to give up the fight either. There wasn't much cover, or any really. It would be problematic. One hundred, two hundred...

“It's not too late to run.”

He was okay sacrificing himself to get the world its freedom from this danger and to keep it the way it is. A repayment for his acts while drugged, a time to atone. These guys shouldn't risk themselves in an awful situation. However, they'd done it many occasions in their lives. It wasn't his call.

Leon smirked. “Let's do this.”

Piers smiled at the both of them. “I have a duty to protect people.”

“Okay then... Guess we're doing this.”

Slinging the bag full of ammo on his shoulder, Piers jogged to the right. “I'll find cover and start taking shots.”

Right. Sniper. Chris looked to the mercenary leader.

“The answer is no. You all are welcome to surrender though.”

The soldier didn't laugh at the bold suggestion, just turned and went back in the direction he came. Some very ugly B.O.W.s emerged from behind a row of hired guns. Things that used to be dogs mutated to larger sizes and hideous. The C-Virus blotted out their eyes to a dark red uniform color. Legs were overly long and flexed funny, necks were also long and bent odd, and teeth too numerous to fit in their maws. Their fur was patchy, rotted out in spots. The spots were bleeding. He'd seen what became of C-Virus infected after enough time passed. It wasn't pretty.

“What do we do, Leon?”

“Avoid the bullets?”

He chuckled, more serious than humorous. “I see an incline over there. Use it to get an angle on these guys. And I recommend rapid fire.”

Leon raised the rifle. “Until it runs out.” He paused before looking at him and adding, “Try not to get killed, Chris.”

“Same to you.”

They separated and ran for their respective paths. Chris stopped almost right away and fired, emptying his gun with perfect shots. He couldn't afford to miss. Mercenaries opened fire, panicking because they hadn't expected him to stand there and shoot. Their panic and nerves caused the shots to go astray. He refused to lose his steely resolve.

He reloaded and a couple bullets narrowly missed him. They were regaining composure, training kicking in. Time to move. He ran straight into the enemy. He could move fast but so did bullets. Chris listened to shots on his left and right. Leon and Piers had entered combat.

The soldiers scrambled, some moving in various directions to suss out where the other threats were hidden. He'd try to keep them busy to delay the discoveries. Down on a knee, he carefully aimed and fired every single bullet and chose to be moving again as he reloaded the weapon. Pain exploded in his left arm. He ignored it.

Chris fired a few shots and pulled a grenade off his vest, tossing it toward the incoming pack of infected dogs. One of them dragging to rise from the explosion got hit with a sniper round through the skull. He thanked Piers in his head and scanned for the next targets.

Mid-run, a force sent him stumbling backward several feet. It felt like getting punched in the chest incredibly hard. A bullet had pierced his bulletproof vest. Blood pooled in the wound and began leaking. Shit.

The manner of fighting he wished he didn't have entered his mind. An unnatural calm spread from head to toe. He always carried emotion into battle in the past. Anger, fear, confusion. This was not that. Legend had the capacity to fight and fight and fight. Time seemed to slow and he could think faster than his STARS or BSAA training ever gained him. He holstered the gun and drew his sword.

Leon and Piers were still fighting and he had to take every last one of them out to protect his partners. Pain reverberated from his leg but he didn't falter a step. He moved and swung, swift and assured. These guys were struggling because he was quick to switch between gun and sword, grenade and sword. They were shooting at him, sometimes grazing or hitting, mostly missing him entirely.

It grew quieter and he stilled, observing the carnage surrounding him. Helicopters were approaching. Not cops. Them. A second wave. He doubted their numbers would be as high as the first. They'd be tough though. Save the best for last was a favored tactic. Using the sword dug in the ground to rest on it a bit, he breathed slower, adrenaline coursing. To the end.

Chris had multiple bleeding holes in him. He wouldn't survive this, but he was content fulfilling his obligation for his sins. He was helping save the world and the others would take it from there. The fight would be over for him and he could truly rest.

The helicopters were lowering to drop reinforcements on the ground. Chris's gaze roved across the field of grass and flower as he started to walk. He could smell it in the air. It was going to rain.


	19. What Deaths May Come

_Seattle, Washington_

The mission proceeded without delay. Chris seemed to be right concerning Alex granting permission for their entry into the city. At least, they encountered no resistance. The streets were quiet, empty. A curtain would push aside or a face would peer out a window to watch them driving by. Citizens inhabiting this city were aware they were trapped. He would have expected panic, escape attempts, or riots when all else failed. The terrorists who commandeered this place had done an excellent job controlling their hostages.

Wesker was impressed they hadn't required larger numbers or an outbreak to claim dominion over the nearly 750,000 population. He preyed on a smaller populous for his purposes. The humans he took to be used for a greater outcome was not like here. Alex intended to wipe Seattle from the map for no reason other than temporary satisfaction. The American government would never negotiate and give in to the demands of a domestic terrorist. They would feign negotiation and respond with force meant to minimize casualties.

He turned the wheel, pulling off the path of the tailing cars continuing forward. The tall skyscraper soon appeared and a few turns later they were parking on the street across from the building's entrance. His daughter sighed, hand twitching and clenching her necklace. She sighed frustration on being unable to contact Chris or the others. He might not have a cell phone, but Leon and the career soldier accompanying him did. Eva was slightly at ease having Leon with Chris, and he presumed she would refrain calling as a sign of trust in all of their training and abilities.

Weakness. One should know and understand their intentions. He'd give his daughter a pass considering the circumstances. The drive from the airport was almost three hours and where a lot of the action was taking place. Sixty miles outside Seattle, agencies were gathering and preparing to make decisions. Their time was limited.

“Hurry up,” Eva muttered as she opened the car door and hopped out.

The corner of his mouth curled upward. Shutting off the engine, he left the keys in the ignition and exited the vehicle. Wesker was the muscle. He'd be the nightmare these hires regretted should they survive his wrath. Of course, Eva couldn't be counted out. She could still use a gun.

They passed through the door. Not a soul in sight through the clear windows, and that view didn't change once inside. Frowning, he strolled along to the area there would be employees. Vacant.

Eva looked at him. “Do you think they're here?”

She wandered toward the elevators, not waiting for an answer, not expecting one. The elevator dinged and the metal doors slid open. Wesker followed her onto the lift and found she already hit the button for the top floor. Eva stared at the closing doors, drawing her gun and switching off the safety. Her magnum out of her family vehicle. The finest security measure.

Arriving on the forty-second floor, the young woman's determination set, Wesker let her lead the way. Her kids, her devotion. She got to command the mission.

Nobody. Wesker looked left and right. Nothing.

“The Green man fell down the hill. His brother Blue they did kill. From sad to bad, he lost his mind. Legacy past, to Legend God binds.”

“What?”

He gently pushed a baffled Eva out of his path, examining the unfriendly woman in a business suit. Hm. Not unfriendly. He recognized her uninviting expression was borne of fear. On closer look, she was trembling, wary of them. A civilian. A hostage.

“Were you told to say that?”

She huffed, not with impatience but nerves. “The Green man fell down the hill. His brother Blue they did kill. From sad to bad, erm, uh, he lost his mind. L-legacy past, to Legend God binds!” Wringing at her hair, she smoothed black pants. “You'll help me, won't you?!”

Bordering on hysterical. Wesker ignored her pleading stance and expression, walking to the door she came out of. He glanced in and was met by gunfire. The woman shoved her way to stand in front of him in the door frame.

“No! You can't go in there!”

Eva moved to his shoulder. “Let me see! Are they here?”

Stricken, she gripped either side of the frame to block their entrance “Archer said you'd come. Are you their mother?”

“My kids! Where are they?”

He considered forcibly removing her. “Mother and grandfather. Where are the boy and girl?”

“Tell me!”

His daughter was shining sweat, pale and shaky. She needed to stop. A hospital or bed rest for a while. She needed a break for her health. He had to find the children to make her quit worsening her condition.

“Calm down. Calm yourself. They're here. They're safe. Come with me.” The woman pushed off the wall and started away from them. “This way! Now!”

Eva followed immediately but Wesker wanted to know what was in the room they weren't allowed.

“Dad! COME-ON!”

Wesker adjusted his sunglasses and went with them. He'd be back. The woman pointed to a door farther along where she wouldn't go.

“You have to answer the riddle. They made me memorize it. You have to say it or-”

“Or what?”

“Alex thinks he's some god? Nothing new with crazies like him.”

He looked at his child. Disrespectful. She looked right back before glaring impatience directed at their guide.

“What? What answer is he looking for? Why the hell do we have to answer it?”

“They'll kill them if you don't.”

“What's the riddle again?” Eva demanded.

Nodding rapidly, eager to provide, she repeated, “The Green man fell down the hill. His brother Blue they did kill. From sad to bad, he lost his mind. Legacy past, to Legend God binds.”

“Is it a single answer? I mean, Green must be Greene, Darius Greene. He went nuts when Umbrella kidnapped his brother. Um..what was his name? Do I have to know that?”

“Skye,” Wesker supplied, wondering what brought on this desire for playing a riddle game with them. “Claire Redfield killed him. We killed him, I suppose you could say. Umbrella's legacy became Greene's and then Alex adopted it, I presume. Alex fancies himself a god, he'll bind to his creation to get it?”

“Huh? Does that even make sense?”

The lady stared. Unhelpful. She shifted from foot to foot. “Do you have an answer?”

Eva appeared clueless but that was fine. Wesker suggested, “Alex becomes a god in his eyes by absorbing the power created with the Legend project.”

“That can't possibly be the answer.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

Eva crossed her arms, running thin on patience and ready to explode. “Is it?”

She shook her head in the negative. Eva smirked. “Told ya.”

“Assimilate Legend virus and destroy the world? Rule it? What do you want to hear?”

The woman unbuttoned her dress jacket, setting her hands on her hips while breathing in and out consciously. She would be no help. A simpler answer then.

“Alex is now Legend.”

Relief palpable, she weakly smiled. “Right. Yeah. That's what he wants. Jerry and Beth are watching the kids they brought here... Uh, right this way.”

Wesker opened the door in her place and his gaze swept through. No combatants, just two frightened adults wearing composed masks, and his grandchildren. The adults jumped from their seats, unsure who they were dealing with. The kids looked up from where they sat on the carpet rolling toy cars across the floor. They returned to their play.

“Mom, come look.”

Eva almost laughed at how well they were dealing with their kidnapping. Wesker watched her go to them, kneeling to sit by her daughter. Aly smiled and showed her one of the toys she had, an airplane. Aly Redfield. A mini Redfield. Oh dear. It actually happened and he was staring into their faces.

“Is this how you got here, Mom?”

Eva nodded. “Yes. Not 'Mommy' anymore?”

A comically serious expression overtook the little girl. “I'm too old to call you Mommy.”

“I'm not!” Donovan shared, concentrating on two cars he was rolling between crayons Wesker assumed were lined up to signify streets to drive on. “You're my mommy so I call you Mommy.”

“We're too old, D.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“Guys, relax. You call me whatever you want to call me.”

“Yay!” Donovan clapped his hands. The five-year-old noticed Wesker. “Are you with Daddy?”

“No.” Eva gave him a look, so he added, “He's busy helping people right now.”

The boy seemed in disagreement, frowning in a sulking manner which appeared awfully like his father. He didn't speak though. When he tired of waiting him out, he prompted an explanation.

“What?”

A grumpy pout was cast in his direction. He tried not to sigh. “Speak, child.”

“Dad.”

Donovan spoke, saving him from Eva's disapproval. “You're supposed to be with Daddy.”

“What are you talking about, D?” she asked.

Aly stood, leaving the toys where they were. “Dad shouldn't be alone. He'll sleep. You know, the sleep you said he took but he didn't.”

Confused, Eva extended a hand and her son let her pull him to his feet. Keeping hold of his hand, she began walking to the door, telling Wesker to get her daughter. The three onlookers in business attire continued to sit around the conference table near where the children had been playing. They weren't interested in going anywhere they weren't certain was safe. They were welcome to their own decisions.

Wesker extended his hand like his daughter did with her son. The girl held both arms upward. Understanding she wished for him to carry her, he smirked to the reality she wasn't as grown up as she acted sometimes. He lifted the child into his arms and joined his daughter at the door.

They stepped into the hall and while she was preoccupied having the kids with her, he checked side to side. No detectable threats. Eva released Donovan's hand to call the number they were supplied to maintain open communication between all parties. He put Aly up on his shoulders much to the girl's delight. She rested her palms on the top of his head. By Eva's smile, she was grinning ear to ear.

“Jake?” She reset how the phone was positioned to listen better. “It's Eva. We found the kids. They're safe.”

“Claire's talking to Barry now?” Eva met his eyes to gain his attention. “No hostiles at their location? Great. And they're moving on to the nearest precinct.”

Aly reached for his shades and he tugged her hands away. “Don't.”

“You're supposed to be with my dad.”

“Is that so?”

“Can't you see?”

He frowned. “Come again?”

“Okay. No word from Rebecca's group. Oh. Renny's just called in and is talking to an FBI agent. Got it.”

She was saying it aloud for his benefit but he was only partially listening. Wesker used his own cell phone to call the provided number himself. They would need someone to retrieve his family members. An agent with the FBI picked up and informed there were two plain-clothed agents inside the city available to get them out.

_“Glad you're safe.”_

A sentiment expressed ending the call that didn't prove true. They were in danger until they passed city limits. Even then, they couldn't know when safety was reached. It was obvious Chris misled them to go his own way. He might have suspected Alex's location and said nothing in an attempt to shield them from the primary danger. He wouldn't be surprised if he was making himself the distraction to hold off Alex's forces. Wesker could easily handle trouble. He was miffed not to be included in a potential fight.

Donovan placed his hand in his mother's now free hand, humming. Aly patted his hair twice.

“Don't be in his way.”

“Your brother?”

He realized the humming had grown louder and Eva was placing herself in front of him. That wouldn't be good. Wesker grabbed her arm and yanked. She did not appreciate the roughness but she became preoccupied by her son's behavior.

“Donovan?”

From the room he'd been curious to check, two armed mercenaries emerged, weapons lifting to fire. Why now? What game was Alex playing?

Wesker raised his gun to take care of the threat. Eva's instinct was to shield the kid closest to her reach. His arm held her apart from that desire. Donovan shouted at them and a wave of energy flowed out of him and knocked them off their feet. They did not get back up. The kid knocked them out cold. Impressive display.

Eva looked horrified, gripping her son's arm firm. “We need to leave. Let's move.”

They used the elevator to the ground floor and left the building without further trouble. He had zero doubt. Chris, Leon, and Captain Nivans were taking the brunt of the attack. Eva was surely realizing this too, however, she would be caring for her children. He would do the violent work. With her broken hand, she could give no argument.

“I'll go get your daddy.”

Chris was his to end if anyone was going to do it. The man once under his charge had earned his respect and there was a sense of..ownership he felt because of their history. Eva held the car door open for Donovan and Aly, looking at him with his announcement.

“He held something back, didn't he?”

She didn't need him to respond.

“Get you and them out of range. Chris and I will join you.”

“Promise.”

“Of course. It's a promise.”

Wesker watched them drive off and returned to the car. He turned on the engine and pulled away. He wasn't sure which direction to go and defaulted to the road they entered the city from. When helicopters were sighted in the sky, he followed them. It was a considerable length of time before he thought he was approaching his end goal.

He drove onto rock and stone, parking the vehicle awkwardly. Exiting the car, keys in ignition again, he groaned. It was starting to rain. He peered skyward and big drops landed on his sunglasses. What a bother. Wesker ran his gloved hands through his hair in concern. Hm. Where might Chris be?

A massacre happened here. Bodies were scattered upon grass and stone and flowers. He began to walk among the dead, rain coming down steady to patter him and the ground. Spotting Chris lying on his back separate from a grouping of armored gray soldiers for hire, he thought him dead too at first. Ever so slightly he was twitching, and he was breathing.

Wesker strode over to him, noting a dead infected dog on his far right. Leon and Nivans were not in sight but he didn't look for them either. The air was cold and yet he knew Chris wasn't feeling it. By this point he probably wasn't feeling anything. His stare had affixed to the dark clouds above, wonder and acceptance of the end was evident on his face.

Looking down on him, he commented, “You always have to defend the world, don't you?”

Rain hit his face with no real effect. Bullets wounds were on numerous parts of his body. There was a lot of blood beneath and surrounding where he lay, mixing into water as the rain formed puddles.

“Look at you now. You're..happy.” Wesker crouched at his side, gazing around. “You did eradicate a small army. No small feat. Worth a moment of pride I suppose.”

His eyes strayed to the sword fallen beside its wielder. He picked up the blade and snapped it in half. Chris turned his head a bit to see him holding the two pieces. Wesker threw them aside and gazed at the younger man.

“You're not done, Chris. I believe you're still infected on the drug cocktail when you and your little pet tried to destroy the world. My viral blood may heal you.”

The stare reverted to the sky. He strained a laugh, coughing on blood which leaked out the corners of his mouth.

“Of course you would run tests on me. Old habits..huh?”

Wesker removed his knife and cut his wrist. “Try.”

His empty expression finally changed when an arm pressed to his mouth. Chris gagged and struggled to push him off with a single arm. The opposite arm appeared defunct. He turned his head. He couldn't prevent the blood dripping into his mouth and the swallow of the fluid repulsing him. The fight vanished and slowly he sucked the bleeding cut.

Eagerly he drank, wanting more. Wesker switched placement, cradling Chris's head in his lap. He cut his arm twice and observed the lifeless man brought back to life.

“Together again, Chris.”

He laid there on his lap for several minutes. When he drew himself to sit upright, Wesker figured he must have healed or healed enough to resume movement. He appeared surprised and unsettled, but not upset.

“I can't believe that worked.”

“Still a smidgen of Legend in you, dear.”

Chris cautiously rose to his hands and knees, looking at him. “Staying alive is the right thing to do, but I don't want to live forever. I can't keep doing this.”

Wesker smiled. “You weren't told.”

“Told what?”

“Your belief in your immortality is incorrect. I examined your blood more closely in the time between our separation from your Team Red. I drew another sample when you were in the hospital and confirmed it remains the same. Alex saw it too. You are aging much slower than a normal human, but you will die one day of natural causes.” Offhandedly he added, “Should you survive that long.”

“Are you serious?”

“I am.”

Coated in blood and wounds as he was, he wiped absentmindedly at a streak of blood on his forearm, grinning. “That's good news.”

“I'm aging very slowly too, I'll have you know.”

He wasn't sure why he was telling him that. He got up and pulled Chris on his feet. Studying him the best he could with clothes covering his injuries, he contemplated how to help put Legend behind them. The outfit wasn't helping and the sword was a damn curse after the many occasions he wiped people out of existence using that weapon. Wesker considered where he could acquire suitable attire for the man.

“We have to find Leon and Piers.”

Ah, right. The spares. Chris wouldn't be leaving without ensuring their proper care.

“As you wish.”


	20. Survivors

_Entrance to Mount Rainier National Park_

Not everyone walked off the battlefield. Chris was alone when he left. He chose to go on foot to try and drive away thoughts of how comforting an encroaching death felt. The carnage needed to be left behind as well. He wiped water from his face despite the futility of the action against the persistent rain.

Bits and pieces of his memories as the person they called Legend would return to him. It wasn't a split personality or anything when he was drugged into compliance or psychosis. A mental block was built to protect him from a breakdown. Now that he was in a better condition, able to think and feel and remember without external influence, the wall slipped. He supposed one day every single thing he did, while enduring P30 control or the concoction which left him an out of control murderer, would come back to him.

He recalled counting down their lives. The lives of people he knew, his friends. He could only remember it from Legend's point of view. Legend viewed them as targets to eliminate and he started with Melody, who was capable of hurting him. Those with infected blood were most essential to eradicate. He despised them. Chris didn't feel that way, and he would have to cope with the deaths he held partial responsibility for in Alex using his body for experimentation.

Alex Wesker wouldn't have gotten this far if he hadn't been captured. His blood created the C-Virus. His type of R-Virus was dissected and reformed. Legend stole all the samples contained in the hidden room of the main lab. He destroyed them and then no one else could use them. It made sense to that emptier version of himself. To Chris, he didn't know why it was so important to be rid of the new virus. Hatred for viruses, he considered. The part of the memory he could remember told him it was special and coveted by Alex. Enough of a reason to get rid of it.

Death hadn't claimed him thanks to Wesker. Somehow the man knew he retained what allowed near immortality, although he was warned to avoid dying again. Apparently Wesker didn't think he had the “juice” in him to escape a second ruination of his body. The man was nothing but pure optimism. Chris, meanwhile, had several liters of a human being's blood sitting in his stomach. He'd puke it up, except he was pretty sure his body was absorbing the abnormal blood into the rest of him to heal. He hated that knowledge.

What a sight he must be, covered in blood even as the rain tried to wash it away. Soon he would be without a scratch or bruise. Because of his confused self mentally fusing with a very full Nova, Chris would survive. He always seemed to make it out alive and in one piece.

Piers Nivans died, torn apart by B.O.W.s. Leon was in the backseat of the car Wesker was driving, clinging to life. The latter thought shared with Wesker was an exaggeration he was already told. There were no mortal wounds and an established meet point with a medical tent set up was mere minutes away.

He would have preferred they send in some military support if they were going to the trouble of a base of operations so close. The battle which had been raging likely resulted in the location of operations. It wasn't a coincidence. It was just too late to save the soldier killed in the line of duty. Their soldier. Goddamn tardy bureaucrats.

Unable to avoid approach any longer, Chris passed through the armed military personnel on either side of the road. They stared at his appearance but did nothing to impede him. Wesker may have given them a heads up. He walked in the mud alongside the road, peering at the raindrops overhead. Looking forward, Eva stepped into his path.

Behind her, the area was buzzing with energy. People were bustling about like they belonged there and had urgent things to do, places to be. He didn't feel urgency. He felt groggy, slowed. Chris wiped an arm across his mouth, self-conscious evidence of his disgusting resolution could be seen.

“Wesker said you made it.”

Reaching her, he stopped a few feet from where she stood holding an umbrella. “I did.”

“He also said you almost didn't.”

Chris rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “Is the FBI taking over or something?”

“Leon promised your team could get it done themselves. Isn't that what you're going to do?”

The rain wasn't going to stop. It started coming down harder and he looked at her through sheets. Fog was forming on the ground and he only then began to feel the chill in the air. Piers Nivans gave his life for his country. He wouldn't give up now. He'd come this far. If the government was trusting him to finish the job, he would get it done. Alex needed to pay for his crimes too. More reasons to keep going than to quit, even if it would be _so_ much easier to quit.

“You were never good at talking to people, Chris, but I wish you would talk to me.”

“Is this an ambush? What do you want from me?”

She chuckled, sounding grim. “Sorry for bringing it up.”

“Don't be like that.”

“What? Honest?”

Ever the realist, that one. She gazed out at the dark day. She appeared to see something she liked.

“It's beautiful here.”

The mountains were..nice. Claire would be wondering about him and he wanted to know how the Seattle police were faring. It was ideal to change his clothes and reload weapons. Chris lost a gun and every last grenade and knife. He didn't have the sword, Wesker deciding what was best for his closure, the ass. And he wanted to see Leon was all right with his own eyes.

“I should check on Leon.”

Eva took a moment to tear her entranced gaze from the landscape. “Yeah. He's in the tent over there.”

He followed where her finger pointed. A red-haired woman hustled up to them. She was carrying a clipboard and wore a navy blue windbreaker which he guessed had some kind of alphabet letters printed on the back. Studying his untoward appearance, she averted her attention to Eva.

“We're ready for you. The kids are buckled in the car with my partner.”

“Thank you, Agent Lewis.”

“Going home?”

“Yes, Chris. It's time for me to do that.”

Chris remained quiet, acknowledging she wasn't wrong. Her broken hand was his fault. When he was forced to act as Legend, he hurt her badly. Melody dead, Jake in a wheelchair, and Claire rendered mostly out of commission. He was to blame for it all. Why would she want to be anywhere near him?

“I want to fight, but like this... And besides, it's not my fight. I mean, it's everyone's but..you know...”

“I know.” There was no need to explain herself.

Eva turned to leave and the agent moved in to walk next to her. They made it a few paces before she stopped to look back at him. Smiling softly, she repositioned her grip on the umbrella handle.

“You'll win.”

“You sound so sure.”

“Because I'm right. Because we can't stand to lose any more.”

He would have rather said something perhaps profound or at least meaningful. He couldn't think of anything good enough, resulting in his silent watch of her departure. Chris should show concern for her and the children born he had no idea about until recent time. There was no emotional attachment though. He didn't know them and he hadn't met them. What was he supposed to say?

Chris quickened his pace to the tents, bypassing the largest one filled with the most people. He thought he saw Barry and Billy inside. Pushing through the flaps to enter the smaller medical tent, he saw six cots set out, five occupied. Two were males in police uniforms and two he recognized. Leon in his pallid but breathing glory, and Rebecca sitting upright on one farthest to the back. She wore bandages around her head and her left hand was wrapped. Jill was seated on the empty cot opposite, talking to her.

His gaze went to the occupied bed nearest the opening. This occupant was covered head to boot by a sheet. Soldiers were standing or kneeling around it, speaking in hushed voices. They would be his team. Piers Nivans was a captain, a leader of his men. He wondered the reason he left them behind to come with him to oppose Alex, while understanding the possible why. Sometimes a person in power had to be the guy making the tough commands, but he should feel obligation to do what's right. He did that.

“Chris!” Relief.

“Jill,” he replied with a smile.

“I'm glad you're okay.”

He reached her still smiling. “Me too.”

She stopped short of hugging him in greeting at the last second. Chris appreciated she was as uncertain of how to behave with him as he felt toward her. He believed her dead, she believed him dead. They spent their adult lives dealing damage to the bioweapon masterminds of the world and suffered for it. Didn't change a thing. He imagined they'd make the same choices all over again to keep the good they managed through the bad.

“It was pretty shitty to hide I survived Umbrella and Wesker and Sin that day. Going through quarantine in seclusion..seemed like a fine idea then.”

“You don't have to apologize to me. After what I've done-”

“No,” she interrupted. “You never have to be sorry for things you couldn't control. I learned that over time and it was difficult to accept, but it's true. No sense flagellating yourself when you shouldn't be.”

“She's right, Chris,” Rebecca agreed, brightly smiling.

Jill put a hand on his shoulder. “I'm sorry I didn't come back to fight sooner.”

“Alex has been planning some kind of attack a long time. I just worry about being too late to make a difference.”

“He doesn't stand a chance against us.”

Chris looked between the two women, Jill in particular. “Alex will be expecting us. I guess we shouldn't disappoint.”

He required new gear and removing the remainder of the bloodstains would be an added perk. If he had to go as is, he would. It wasn't plan A. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Billy stroll into the tent folding his umbrella.

“The end is near,” he remarked dryly, spreading his arms a bit for emphasis.

Entering behind him, Barry dropped a heavy looking bag on the floor. He was sans umbrella and very drenched. He was also outfitted in a familiar style. The women reacted along with him, turning to stare in surprise.

“Are you wearing your STARS uniform?”

“Yep. You three will be joining me. That is if Rebecca's well enough to come. Rebecca?”

She became serious. “I'm helping.”

“Alright then.”

“The others are getting outfitted in another tent,” Billy told them. “Uniforms are in the bag for you three. Feds are providing the weapons and ammo. They'll get you set when you're ready.”

He ducked out of the tent but poked his head inside. “Glad to see everybody here. Let's try to keep it that way.”

Chris went to Barry, who lifted a few things out of the bag for him. “Black version of the Raccoon STARS uniform. The new ones we were supposed to start wearing instead of the more personalized unique fashion they let us do at first.”

“What hole did you dig these up from?” Jill asked.

“This is thanks to Moira. The girls delivered them personally. I had these stashed in my attic from way back when I left Raccoon. I'd forgotten about them but Polly remembered stumbling upon them a couple years ago. They're on the way and plan to stay with Leon while we're taking down that son of a bitch.”

He looked at his sister's future husband sleeping on the cot nearby. The outside didn't appear too rough. When this was finished he'd call Claire. Maybe Leon would be awake by then to talk to her.

The women dressed quickly while he sought a place to wash himself the best he could before putting on the old uniform. He paid a stop to the main tent where he was guided to the spot for receiving and loading weapons. Chris returned to the medical tent afterward to find Renny, Billy, and Sherry gathered there. Rain had lightened temporarily but he doubted it was to last. Thunder rumbled and fog remained. A probable storm in the works.

Renny was regaling everybody with his experience infiltrating the city and the Columbia Center building.

“Seventy-six floors of chasing these dicks and when we caught 'em, Krauser had something to say. Aw man, by the time he was finished with them they were singing.” Fidgeting his nerves, he glanced to Chris. “I was telling these guys the weapon isn't in that building. It's on the water. We saw docks and a freighter from the observatory room.”

“That's where we'll find Alex,” said Chris.

Rebecca was fiddling with the straps on her vest while Jill searched around and grabbed her cap. She fixed it to her head and spoke to the younger woman something he couldn't hear. It was great to be together again, even in these circumstances. Fighting bioterrorism among trusted people was what he excelled at.

Chris stepped outside the tent for air and Barry accompanied him. Barry came out of retirement to do this. They stood in silent solidarity, an appreciated decision. He didn't want to be asked if he was okay or how he made it out when it went so awfully for the other two.

The next to emerge was Rebecca followed by Jill. The former appeared comfortable in her outfit compared to the latter, a contrast to what he expected. Sections of the uniform were black like the vest and equipment, but he noted the fabric was a green shade of color. Hearing the thunder louder this time, he looked up and saw Wesker approach.

“You're..wearing a uniform.”

Wesker reached them and seemed wholly unimpressed with Jill's statement. Chris tried to prevent memories of the Mansion Incident and his captain's betrayal. He tended toward trust issues prior to that night. Memories training and on mission together as a team popped in there. He found the sky drawing his attention as lightning flickered.

“My clothes were ruined. No time for better.”

“I like that on you better than the Matrix look,” Chris ridiculed while he headed away from them.

He didn't know where he was going, where they'd be leaving from. But the five of them had been standing there together, looking toward the stormy sky for a moment. Way too reminding. They were the ones who escaped the mansion intact that night. Jill caught up to him, Barry and Rebecca close behind. Wesker was trailing farther back.

“Sir! Ah..sir!”

Agent Harper appeared in his eyeline. “I think he's talking to you.”

Chris stared at her briefly and turned to look where she was looking. The group of soldiers had left the tent and wore determined expressions focused on him. They were seeking direction. Revenge or closure, he couldn't take that away from them.

“We want in.”

“Let us help stop the terrorist.”

“Fine by me.” He patted Jill on the back. “They're coming. Where's our transport?”

The DSO agent got his attention. “It isn't the same, but I would like to take my partner's place. I have to do this.”

“I'm sorry about Piers. He was a good man.”

She nodded curtly. “The helicopters are waiting.”

Harper knew their transport location. Great. They could get moving. Alex was operating along the coast. He had a virus he was intending to release. Washington and the rest of the country would be in trouble if he wasn't stopped. The thing was, he couldn't remember a virus dispersal method. Legend had Nova. What did Alex have?

They chose to pilot the helicopters themselves. Chris would fly Piers's team and Agent Harper. Renny flew the second chopper carrying Sherry, Rebecca, Billy, Jill, Barry, and Wesker. From the national park to the part of the Seattle waterfront Renny directed them to, they faced no intervention. He followed Renny's lead and the helicopters were put down close to the dock.

The freighter was anchored. He had no intention to flee. What was he planning and shouldn't Chris know?

Oh, there was Krauser jogging to them. He gave a wave to indicate seeing him but the arm dropped. He heard the man became infected with the later strain of the C-Virus when he was preventing Nova going off. Actual sight of the ally affected was a different thing.

Veins darkened his skin, spider webbing outward from a central point. The closer he got, the worse it got. His eyes were irritated and rimmed red. Krauser's nails were clawed and although he couldn't see it yet, he suspected his teeth were sharper. His arms had grown abnormally long. He wondered how his cravings were at this point. The man would be an enemy today or tomorrow. His own virus seemed to slow deterioration which couldn't last forever. Execution to eliminate any possible threat might have been in the cards had he entered the bustling base. Wise he stayed out here.

“I got visual. Alex is on the deck, far side.”

Before Chris could respond, a soldier gave an alert.

“Hostiles spotted!”

The soldiers rushed to engage human and non-human combatants alike. Mutated creatures covered ground quicker than the human form. All infected he'd guess. Their masks made it more difficult to tell.

They were coming from both sides. Chris hesitated and Wesker nudged him forward. He pulled Jill with him and Barry shouted for orders at the same time. Thinking fast, he told Harper, Billy, and Krauser to take one direction. Rebecca, Sherry, and Renny were to counter on the opposite side. While a battle would rage there, the four of them boarded the freighter to find Alex.


	21. A Knife Through the Heart

_Seattle Port, Washington_

Single-minded in his pursuit, he hurried to find Alex. Jill ran beside him, Wesker ahead and Barry bringing up the rear. It was weird to be on the same team again after the years that passed and the history in between. Partnering with Jill one more time felt right. She was older but she looked the same to him.

When he saw her draw her firearm, he mimicked the action. Barry grunted and grumbled under his breath. He looked and found they had company moving in from behind. The thick rain and dark skies caused it to be tough to identify what was coming at them. Human enemies, infected humans, or murderous animals. Something like that would attack and he couldn't prepare for it when he couldn't see which type.

Chris made a choice on the fly, grasping a metal bar against the wall right by him. “Going up! Keep moving forward!”

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Wesker walked away to confront the enemies alone. He resumed climbing in spite of the ignored order and was satisfied to watch Barry and Jill continue forward. Reaching the platform above, he stood at the railing and tried to view the length of the ship in front of him. Here he could see the entire section of the ship on this side. No one visible. He could have gone indoors to shelter from the storm.

“Hello, Chris.”

He spun toward the figure standing in his peripheral vision and a hard boot hit him in the stomach. Hitting the metal platform flooring on the opposite end, the slick wet nearly brought him over the side. The slick did take his gun to the floor below. Alex grabbed him up by the vest and then neck, lifting him off the ground. Chris struggled to get him to let go, flailing and reaching for a knife.

“It just takes one off day.”

Gritting his teeth, he futilely fought to loosen the iron tight grip on his throat.

“One mistake.”

The son of a bitch dropped him and he plummeted to the bottom. He crashed against the railing and wall before flopping to the metal floor. Fucking _OW_.

“Do you remember? I said that to you the day I removed you from the world.”

“How could I forget?” he asked rhetorically, forcing himself to rise. “Looks like you failed to make it stick.”

Alex examined his committed stare. “You were always such a brave boy.”

He grimaced at the slight. “You are not that much older than me, asshole.”

Jumping down to join him below, Chris snatched his fallen gun. He backed away, raising the weapon. Many memories of being insulted and diminished crept into mind. His anger grew. They had to finish it this time.

The charge was sudden but he was ready for sudden moves with a Wesker. Chris stepped out of his path and Alex slid to a halt, straightening his stance and shaking his head to reorient. For inhuman, he was still rather human. And his fighting techniques weren't all that different than Wesker's techniques. Less refined perhaps, matching arrogance.

Alex turned to strike him and he dodged the blow, delivering a counterattack. It connected and his enemy stumbled backward. Balancing, he charged full speed. Chris peered through the precipitation and opened fire. The bullets missing their mark, he twisted on his heel and hustled to gain distance.

Bullets narrowly missed his head and he hunched lower, spinning around. His gun was raised but Alex was upon him. A fist slammed into his jaw and he only managed to partially lessen the knee thrusting in his stomach. Hands grabbing for him disappeared. Chris was able to stand upright unimpeded.

Jill shoved Alex and lifted her gun to aim center mass. “Don't touch him, bitch.”

He weaved out of the path of the bullet, irritated. “You didn't have the good decency to stay dead, Jill. This doesn't concern you.”

The mood shifted. “He never saw me coming that day. What can _you_ do?”

She waved an arm extended and ran away. He got he was supposed to run with her. Alex stalked after them nice and slow. Ego.

“You're going to die today, Chris!”

Jill ducked into a square space he hadn't noticed. Assuming he was to go too, he threw himself aside into the space as Alex plowed past. The man skidded to a stop and searched for the section they huddled beneath. His search was interrupted.

“Hey, you!”

The explosion rocked the area and Alex took off for the person responsible. Thanking Barry in his head, Chris stepped in the open and Jill did the same. He contemplated his weapon supply on how to pause this guy long enough to kill him and find the weapon. There was the risk it was tied to his life but also there was zero evidence of that. Actually, there was zero evidence of a weapon. Where would he put a weapon if he was going to put a weapon on a massive ship such as this fine one?

“Why is it we never formulate a real plan before getting ourselves into these situations?”

Chris headed in the opposite direction from where he knew Alex to be. “Shoot and don't die is a plan. It works.”

Catching up to him, Jill bumped his shoulder in jest and passed him by. She held her gun ready and actively looked around. The others would defend and eliminate the hostiles on land. If the weapon was kept there, they'd uncover and disarm it. Their own job was most importantly a search for the weapon, and the removal of Alex from the game board. He was too dangerous to remain free.

Chris wanted to fight Alex while his partner was content seeking out what she saw as the bigger threat. Lightning jagged across the sky and Jill pulled the door to the inside open. He should stay close but his primary target wasn't in there. Rain pounding onto his shoulders, when Jill glanced questioningly back at him, he hurried through the door before he could second guess their task.

The rain hammered on the roof and wall, deafening. It would be troublesome detecting enemies or ambush should it lie ahead. Jill started through the corridor at a slow jog and he followed. A dispersal system containing one of the known viruses might be somewhere within the interior of the freighter. This ship was enormous.

Putting to the back of his thoughts the promise Alex would get a blade through his evil mind one day, he covered the halls and rooms. Jill opened a door and pressed to the wall. He went inside, sweeping his gun along with his sight. Clearing several rooms, they started talking to each other.

“Do you think we'll find it here?”

“Maybe.” Chris looked through the wide, empty corridor. “This is feeling like a diversion.”

Jill moved ahead, turning the corner. “Hey, this could come in handy.”

He reached her and her find. A rocket launcher in a glass case with two available shots beside it. He kept moving onward while she helped herself to the large weapon. The threat could have been deceit. Chris didn't remember a device for spreading a virus during his time captive. It would be a simple task to use a gas canister in a public area. A virus by itself was a weapon.

Peeking through a round window, Jill nodded to him. “Let's get rid of Alex. We can worry about a weapon after he's neutralized.”

The rain was still pounding the surfaces and he shivered. Running across the deck, there was Alex fighting Barry and Wesker. He separated from the pair of men and studied their arrival. Grinning, he removed something from his attire.

Jill approached. “You can go quietly...”

Alex pulled off the cap and injected the contents into his neck. Chris thought he destroyed all of it. Tubes of mixture containing altered R-Virus and manipulated P30 substance. This would allow him to become the Legend. He'd been working on it a long time. Alex's eyes turned fully red, his initial virus having a greater effect over the introduced virus. The stabilizing agent he created himself in the past to grant abilities like Wesker had, appeared to be finding balance.

“Or you can go ugly, fucker.”

She was confident but Chris was getting uneasy. He knew Legend and if someone like Alex changed into Legend, it was going to be awful. As soon as Alex seemed to have a grip on his transition, he pounced on Chris. Would have, anyway, had Barry not taken the blow. He shouldn't do that.

“Barry!”

The older man was unconscious in a heap a few yards away. Alex glared straight into his eyes.

“I'm going to rip out your heart, Chris!”

“Try it, Alex!” he called back.

This guy's greed was expansive. He wanted to kill Chris, wanted to kill innocent people as proof of his power, and believed he deserved whatever. Alex likely thought himself immortal now, but he'd make sure that wasn't the truth. Global control would not be his endgame. All his plotting ended today.

Two fast punches to his front and the same to his face. Alex was a beast with the new virus circulating through his veins. He was a ridiculous adversary. Watching his violent altercation against his companion, he felt a bit in awe of the two blurs. Wesker grabbed the arm taking a swing at him and shoved it away. He held and kicked the guy, rotating to punch him and drawing his magnum.

Knocked askew on the spot he was lying in pain, he groaned. His gaze flickered to Barry's unconscious form and he wished the storm could lighten up a minute for the battle. Alex yanked him in the air and Jill reached them to jam a shotgun in his side, pulling the trigger. Howling rage, he released Chris to the floor and staggered.

The wound would heal quickly so they had to keep at it. Chris found his feet to see Alex coming for him. He seemed intent to kill him and everyone else was just getting in the way. Wesker, ever the reluctant individual to alter his habits, brought out the stun gun each carried this mission. The other Wesker did not enjoy the electric shock. Enough of those and the virus would burn through rapidly.

Chris thought by Alex's confidence, his injection would prove more permanent, an endless recycling predicament. Therefore, their work was to deliver a lot of damage in rapid succession to hold him down and destroy his brain. Jill's discovery of the rocket launcher inside the ship would be fantastic if they got a hit. There were only two shots, one loaded and one spare. They had to make it count.

However powerful he happened to be now, blown to pieces should do the trick for anybody. Chris planned to have the pieces swept and incinerated for peace of mind's sake. Although if things went sideways, he was ready with his knife for that bastard's skull.

“Clear out!”

Somehow Barry was wielding the launcher and kneeling to fire. Wesker laid on the ground a fair distance and he didn't know where Jill had gone. Alex's leg had been shredded by gunfire and he limped while waiting to recover. Ah, toward Jill who was holding her arm that appeared to be hurting. He got moving after he delayed too long and chose to go for her. The blast wave barely caught the edge of where he was dragging Jill to the ground for her safety. Barely was plenty.

Rolling onto his back, he blinked up at the rain. Familiar. Jill grunted and poked him.

“You breathing?”

“Roger.”

“Ugh. I'm not sure I am.”

He laughed quietly. “You are.”

Rolling up in spite of his protesting body, he offered Jill a hand and together they watched the Weskers going at it again. Alex's clothing was torn and visible wounds apparent. Healing. He and Jill pulled out their stun guns almost simultaneously, glancing to each other for confirmation. Chris ran forward to circle the fight and wait for his shot. Jill stayed put to line up her shot faster.

The sky flashed, no actual lightning seen, only light. Avoiding an accidental friendly hit, he spun around at the farthest point of the ship. Wesker left the fight when Jill fired, electrifying her target. He thought he heard Barry grumbling about something as he climbed a ladder with the launcher but he banished the unnecessary distraction.

Alex was infuriated, screaming how they were insects to crush and meaningless. Must be obnoxious when the meaningless insects were beating his ass. The man slammed a fist into the floor, looking less and less human as the virus healed him physically on overdrive. It splintered and exploded on impact.

Gunfire forced him to lower the weapon and then he was staring at the stars peeking through breaking clouds. Oh wow. The rain was letting up and the storm was ending. He couldn't recall what blasted him and realized his thighs and left arm were bleeding. Shrapnel embedded in him. Oh not great.

He twisted to his front and dragged forward to nowhere specific. He should probably get up. Pain shot through his back. It hurt really badly. Alex dug the knife in deeper, angling it into his very necessary organ.

Gripping his throat with the hand not on the blade, Chris couldn't struggle while he was pulled higher. He put them cheek to cheek and that made him realize how bloody Alex was. Difficult to ascertain whether he was severely injured or healed. Stunned and in agony, he felt grief of fear pass through him.

“This is what I get?” Alex yelled furiously. “You ungrateful piece of shit! I made you!”

This fight was already decided. It was over. Alex shouldn't be keeping up the assault this good. Yet it made total sense. He would never stop fighting his hardest even if the conclusion seemed decided. Deranged but weakening eyes looked into his frozen stare. _No! He wouldn't be defeated!_

The knife drew out and he fell. He crawled to rest against the siding of the vessel, a hand clutching the area of his back which hurt. Chris could feel the wetness increasing beneath his hand and knew it was bad. Barry reached him and turned him farther, putting pressure on the gushing hole.

“Jill! Take the launcher!”

“Alex!” Shit, it was awful to speak. “You should know best of all!”

The seething man looked at him, glowing eyes and affected skin stealing his ability to pretend to be human. Once he was good and certain he held his attention, he strained his voice to say more.

“I'm undying forever, remember? It's what you experiment leftovers did to me. Can you say the same?”

As he hoped, the brow furrowed in anger from the confusion. He didn't understand what was said. If he didn't understand, he wasn't superior. His stupid rules.

Jill was about in position, and he tried and failed to smile. “What can you survive? You're going to die here.”

“I will not die!”

“Survive this!” Jill shouted, firing the launcher and sending the rocket to a direct hit.

Even burned to a melting, horrifying mess, Alex tugged his body to slide along the floor. Chris reached for his knife and couldn't muster the strength to take it out of the sheath. His gaze dropped to the knife used to stab him and he picked it up, fingers of the right hand closing firmly on it.

“Barry, need a moment.”

Chris pushed off the wall and half dragged, half crawled himself to the remnants of a monster. There was no smile, no more one liners, no joking to relieve tension. He brought the knife through the mouth and into his brain, observing the life drain from his eyes. Tugging the blade out, he sawed at the neck until he decapitated him, separating head and body. He had to be sure this time.

Collapsing, Barry was with him finding fabric to stem the flow of blood. “Hang in there, Chris.”

Wesker's stride was uneven and rough. He had his own coating of blood trailing down his front from the nose and mouth to his chin, neck, and clothes. Clothing was torn in places and he appeared pale. This wasn't an easy fight. He rarely saw Wesker wounded and exhausted.

“Could Alex's blood heal you?”

Chris insisted Barry help him stand and Jill came to assist. He leaned on the railing with most of his weight, trying to see past where the ship lay docked. There were too many bodies scattered across the land visible to him. Alex had a high number of people in service of his desire to reign, willingly or not. He wondered on his friends' health.

“I don't care. Even if it works, I don't want to survive that way.”

“It's fine,” said Jill. “We stop the bleeding until you've healed. A couple hours?”

“Wesker, make sure the body is cremated,” Chris reminded.

“I'll take care of it,” Barry declared, grimacing at the sight of his backside. “Lie on your stomach here. Come on. You need to rest.”

Chris shook his head. “I have to know everyone's okay. Help me over there.”

Jill looked anything but happy about the announcement. “Don't be stubborn. You could die, Chris.”

“Jill, please.”

“I've got him.”

His arm was wrapped around Wesker's shoulders. In his equally poor condition, their progress moved at a snail's pace. Even so, they made it off the freighter and spotted Rebecca standing by the water's edge. He tried to ask her where the others were but she never turned in their direction. She was in shock, maybe.

Krauser walked to them, Harper and two DSO soldiers behind him. Seeing Chris's condition, he ordered the soldiers to locate towels and bandages. They hurried to scrounge the items and the agent sank to her knees, rubbing her cheek streaked with dirt.

“I got them. They killed my partner but they didn't kill me.”

She sounded like it was an accomplishment but the excitement was absent. Chris sank to his knees opposite her more out of necessity than unity. It was surprising Wesker copied him. The man must be injured pretty terrible.

“Where's Sherry? Everyone else?”

“I don't know. Anybody alive walked out.” She looked around. “Rebecca's hurt but nothing serious. I know I saw Sherry... Don't think anyone else made it.”

“That's not possible!” He got Wesker to bring him to his feet, scanning for his friends. “Sherry? Billy? Renny!”

“I see her,” Wesker said. “Sherry's okay.”

Chris saw her too, relaxing a little. He studied the scenery. Were they really dead?

“I have to end it before I can't control myself anymore.” Krauser headed back into the mass of bodies, glancing to him and Wesker a final time. “Farewell, comrades.”

Now him? He would lose this many people? He couldn't stand that. He refused. Scanning his surroundings everywhere and finding no one, despair began to build. Billy and Renny gone. Damn it.

Renny limped to stand next to him and Wesker, holding his side. “Who's funeral we gonna have to have? I say anybody who fought and died through this bullshit should get a medal.”


	22. Welcome to the World

_Sterling, Colorado_

Storybook ending... As close as it gets. She sat on the lawn pondering how many times she would wait outside hoping he would show up to be with her. It was stupid. Only a few days passed since Claire and Jake told her what happened and that Billy Coen didn't walk out alive. He was recovering, dealing. She was being selfish.

Donovan giggled and bounced up and down on his cute little bum while his sister tried to take the ball from under him. She changed her mind and ran to Aunt Natasha, who wore a band-aid on her temple and nothing else to give away the scary attack in her own home recently. No one would ever be able to tell her kids were kidnapped. They were the same. Asking about their dad often, but otherwise the same.

“Hey, pass that book over, will you?”

Eva handed three books to Josh, uncertain which he was referring to. Her friend picked the one he wanted and tossed the rest on the ground. Flipping through the pages, he seemed to be looking for something. She gazed upward at the clear skies. It was a warm day. Would be a nice day for the kids to meet their father...

Donovan began singing and Aly was quick to ask him to quit it. He listened and announced he was going inside to find his new teddy bear. She opted not to mention what became of his old teddy.

“You're lucky Dan's a cool guy taking you back like he is,” Josh brought up. “Janice can't wait to see you in the building again.”

“What about Diedre or Jonathan? They don't miss me?”

She was teasing and he caught on. “Hate that you're coming back to work. Really thought a promotion might be in order for Jonathan.”

“Jonathan a lab tech? Oh geez. Could you imagine? He'd be losing his mind in an hour.”

“Nah, I'd give him 'til lunch.”

They laughed. He returned to perusing the book and she reclined on the grass, closing her eyes. Claire and Leon were together and on doctor ordered rest. Leon could move around well compared to his fiancee. They, along with her aunt, would be the support network. Her dad wouldn't give up working on a cure, no matter what she thought on the subject. Said he had virus ace Arias to help him out. Like she approved of that idea. She didn't have time to waste arguing with him. Let him do what he wanted.

Chris was the one constantly in her thoughts. She considered they had a kind of romantic friendship right now. It was fine, really. She was dying but she was human and had two great kids. Chris was alive, saved-even if not for her. Expecting him to just resume normal life wasn't fair. It was okay to be like this.

People choose their own fates. Her end was set in stone when she decided to become human instead of what she was. But Eva didn't regret making the choice. Not for a minute. Because when she made that choice, she got everything she'd wanted. A family, friends... A life. A normal, everyday, mostly quiet life.

She would do it all again in a heartbeat over living forever. In this world, it's simple pleasure which makes life and humanity so special, so extraordinary. Eva planned to experience and enjoy every moment left until her time was up. Then, it'll either be lights out or on to the next adventure.


	23. Free

He would be ready for what came next. The next mission or the next day. He had to keep finding reasons to be the good man his friends viewed him as. Those around repeatedly reminded him they were there to lean on whenever he needed it. His struggle mainly involved emotions and learning to channel them in a healthy manner. Not something he was keen to share with others.

His sister continued to work for TerraSave, advocating the new anti-bioterrorism organization forming. Her betrothed with the DSO did the same advocating. Helena Harper would be taking time off to arrange her sister's funeral but she arranged an agreement where Chris voluntarily undergoes house arrest/quarantine. He would submit to tests, similar to what Jill went through, or so Jill said, and in exchange he would be granted freedom. This deal was in place because of his prior years of service and with the expectation he may go on to serve the country again in the future. The latter part was understandably up in the air for the government.

Their demands were reasonable. They wanted to ensure he wasn't a danger. Not only him, but the criminals circulating around him. For now they would overlook the criminals so long as they did not become aware of criminal activity. Their intellect and skill made them indispensable if they were willing employees. They would keep everything Chris did as Legend under the radar and bury the evidence. He was aware the reality at play here.

The U.S. government had a new BSAA in the works. Global reach of bioweaponry were not going away as they hoped. They suspected a vacuum for control over the black market and an increase in sales was on the horizon. The necessity for people who would combat it was essential and Red Team seemed extremely capable. Chris was asked to step up, help get the organization in motion and bring it together. One day they hoped he might take the lead when cleared for active duty.

He hadn't been sure he'd even consider the offer, but Jake asked to join. Sherry, Renny, and Wesker wanted to join the group as well. Barry wished to remain retired but volunteered to take on the role of advisor for the budding organization. Jill was on the fence whether she would return to active duty, yet had no doubts she wanted to join. Barry encouraged her and suggested she hold the lead position until Chris was well enough to do the job. He seemed very optimistic concerning them. Chris found the government unusually idealistic too, proclaiming 2019 as the year the BSAA would be official. They'd supposedly rooted out the “bad eggs” to retain authenticity and do the good they used to do.

Chris begrudgingly respected Wesker. Yeah, that was a thing. The guy claimed he abandoned his prior work. He intended to work on a cure for his daughter. Rebecca told him she would see what she could also learn. The genius woman was going to work in a laboratory to fight viruses and create vaccines. Even in her grief, Rebecca spent time with Chris before they went their separate ways. She had a funeral to arrange for her husband, and he had to go to his wife.

Wesker would stay with Eva and his grandchildren for her probable final years. He preferred it, since while the man wouldn't admit his humanity, being around his kid and..him maybe... Chris didn't want to be alone either. He liked the idea of Wesker since the tough bastard could stop him, stop someone who dared mess with his family.

Parking in the drive, Chris and Wesker got out of the car. He studied the house, understanding he may not be a good father or husband or lover, not now anyway. But they still loved each other. He would be with her and them and that would be enough. He knew he could get better.

“You have your mini Redfields.”

“Aly. Al. Albert. Al.” He looked at the other man. “Do you really think it's coincidence? You're her father. You mean the world to her and don't you forget it.”

Chris stared toward the front door. It was a beautiful day out. The peculiar image of Wesker and himself parenting the boy and girl crept into his head. Ugh. No thanks.

“Forget the world. What do you want?”

He must appear he was thinking too much. He didn't have to think about this much. Chris scratched his jaw.

“I want to make her happy.”

The older man trailed by several feet, giving him space. Chris nearly knocked on the door before shaking his head and moving for the handle. It was unlocked and he opened the door and stepped inside the house. He could see Eva down the hallway in the dining room with the children. Chris smiled. He was home.


End file.
